Bounty Hunter
by Genghiz Khan
Summary: Ginny Weasly is captured by a bounty hunter, who takes her off to Draco Malfoy. But why does the bounty hunter himself break her out of Malfoy Manor? AU! Harry is not the BWL! HG!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer : **I do not own Harry Potter. That's J K Rowling and Warner Bros. And yeah, I'm making no money off it either.

* * *

**Prologue**

The assassin looked at the building in front of him. He was in a densely populated wizarding suburb just south of Manchester. It was lucky that wizards knew how to remove entire swaths of land out from the non-magical world. Muggles thought that the Earth was approximately 28% land. The reality was closer to 42%. All that real estate, and muggles had no idea that it even existed. The assassin smirked. Really. The ICW was a devious group indeed.

He decided to concentrate on the task at hand. His stakeouts had revealed that the man he was assigned to assassinate would play the grand piano in the living room at about 8 pm. He'd decided to take him out then. Poor man.

The target's name was Ernest Babbling. A middle aged man, Mr. Babbling was known around the neighborhood as a polite, unassuming man who'd never sinned in his life. Probably his image of cleanliness had won him enemies among Death Eaters. The assassin snorted. Yeah right. What the neighborhood did not know was that Mr. Babbling (who was in the Department of Wizarding Agriculture in the Ministry) had pissed of one too many Death Eaters in his tenure as the Chief Commissioner of Magical Sericulture. Acromantula Silk was a rare commodity in this world, and reprimanding the Nott and Goyle estates for repeated violations was stupidity to an extreme. And to cap it all, he'd refused to accept any bribes. Pure genius.

A mental alarm went off. There were fifteen minutes left and the target was about to come out at any time. The assassin went into the building across the one his target lived in and took the elevator to the 11th floor. He disabled the wards to an apartment with nary a flick of his wand. He opened the door and strode in, going across to the window overlooking the Babblings' living room. The assassin had not chosen just any random apartment. The owners of this apartment were on a vacation in France. Quite a lucky coincidence. A smile threatened to split the face of the assassin. He believed in making his own luck. Quite literally so, in this case. A simple confoundus charm along with a mild suggestion potion was enough to "persuade" this man to take a week off.

The assassin opened the case he'd brought along. He took out the parts of the weapon he'd brought along and began arranging them into a sniper rifle. This was no muggle tool. The rifle was used only by a handful of snipers around the world. It was an amazing piece of magical design and the assassin had used his proficiency in runes to improve its properties.

He lovingly sighted down the barrel once it was complete. This task did not strictly require such an advanced weapon, but the assassin was taking no chances on this one. 5000 galleons rested on its outcome.

The rifle worked on the same principle as wands, but was calibrated for just a handful of spells. Its advantage was that of power and accuracy. Its downside was that after firing two spells in succession, it could not be used to fire any spell for another minute. The assassin had decided to use a spell which grabbed hold of the heart and made the victim have a cardiac arrest immediately.

He fine-tuned the scope now. Any second now…. There! The man had arrived. He seated himself on the piano stool, and cracked each and every joint in his hands. The assassin steadied his aim. The closer the spell hit to the heart, the greater the chance of its success.

Mr. Babbling took a deep breath. The assassin's finger tightened on the trigger…. And abruptly came off. The wards. Mr. Babbling was a fool, but not an incompetent man. His home was warded quite well. The spell would be enough to completely crash through them, but still. The assassin had promised himself to take no chances here. He reached into his case and took out a thin glass plate. The plate was very thin, and its edges were sharp as a knife. He reached into the case again, and took out a ritual knife. It was quite plain, but was coated with a potent mixture of potions. It was normally stored in a container filled with a special potion and maintained at a temperature of 91 Kelvins. Now, it gleamed red as the potions that coated it began to oxidize upon contact with air.

The assassin did not hesitate, he did not think. He slit open his right ring finger with the knife and painted a runeword on the glass plate. The spell would draw extra power from his magical core, but the resulting increase in spell strength would be enough to give the Hogwarts' wards pause. He ran his left index finger on a rune inscribed on the barrel of his gun. A small slit opened at the base of the barrel. The glass plate fit into it. Another rune was touched and the small bits of glass still outside the barrel were cut off and the slit closed itself. There. All done.

The assassin turned his attention towards the target again and leveled his rifle. The man was now singing along with the tune he was playing. The assassin did not like his voice. The man's voice went higher and became louder. The assassin's finger tightened on the trigger. The man's voice went up a notch. The assassin's finger tightened some more. The target sang louder. The finger tightened some more. The target's voice went higher and higher, becoming louder and louder with each note. Suddenly, a magical alarm sounded in his house. He never heard it. He was dead before the sound reached his ears.

The assassin smiled. Another job well done. He packed his rifle and replaced the ritual knife. He did not bother taking out the glass plate from the barrel. The power in the spell would have vaporized it completely. He took out his wand and vanished anything compromising, like the pieces of glass on the carpet. Taking his case in a hand, the assassin walked out of the apartment with a brisk step. Stepping out of the building, he walked the small distance to his car, an Audi R8 (Magical version). He opened the door and got in, putting the rifle case in the back.

The magical law enforcement got to the place exactly 124 seconds after his car had gone out of sight. He would read about his kill in the newspaper the next day. And magical Britain would never find out who'd killed such an unimportant official. Untraceable. Just as he liked himself.

* * *

**A/N :** How is it folks?? Forgive me if it ain't British enough for your tastes. I'm a thoroughbred Indian, so....


	2. Taken Hostage

**A/N :** They always said it was great to have reviews, I had no idea just how good! I thank my first two reviewers, Miss Bear and David Fishwick. Thanks guys. And I also thank those who added me to their alerts lists. Hopefully this chapter does justice to your expectations.

**Disclaimer : **I do not own Harry Potter. That's J K Rowling and Warner Bros. And yeah, I'm making no money off it either.

* * *

**Taken Hostage**

Ginny Weasley was flying. Flying high up in the air. And without a broom at that. Her red hair billowing around her, her white skin being constantly buffeted by wisps of moisture. Yes. This was heaven. But there was one thing missing. Complete happiness would only be achieved with the presence of her other half.

Lo behold! She'd barely thought about him when he materialized beside her, seemingly coming from nowhere. His wild, black hair flying back, a glint of red showing every now and then along it. His brown eyes held loving warmth and when he opened his arms towards her, his sculpted muscles tied her abdomen in knots. His smile held untold promise and his unblemished skin made her swoon. She reached out towards him. He reached out towards her. They came closer and closer… closer and closer… And his hand reached for hers…

And suddenly, her eyes opened. She glanced around herself, sighing. She'd just seen him yesterday, and she was already dreaming about him. Ginny yawned expansively, then stretched. Looking at the clock hanging on the wall, she saw that it was about to be breakfast time. That meant that Molly Weasley would be on her way to wake her kids up.

And sure enough, she could hear her mother's footsteps on the stairs outside. She smiled. Hogwarts was good and all, but she still missed her mother's overbearing care. The door opened and Molly peeked inside.

"Ginny", said Molly before she could stop herself. Then she stopped. "Oh! You're awake."

"Morning mum." Smiled Ginny. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

Her mother smiled back at her. "Come down for breakfast, dear. You'd rather not miss it." Her smile changed to a small frown. "In my day the Hogwarts house elves would make us good sized meal portions. They seem to be slacking off now. I mean, look at you now…"

Ginny listened to her mother's fading voice as she went up the stairs. Trust Molly Weasley to complain about Hogwarts food.

"It's good to be home." Said Ginny out aloud.

**

* * *

**Ginny had returned to her room after breakfast. What to do, what to do. The dilemma of what to do had plagued her every year whenever she came back during the summer holidays. She had always gotten over it in different ways during her first three summer breaks. The first time, she'd persuaded Bill and Charlie to teach her a few hexes and jinxes so that she could fight for herself, if need be. It had also helped her to start getting over the diary incident.

Next break she'd had her mum teach her knitting. Most people would have found that odd, but Ginny had always found the click-clack of those needles striking against each other strangely soothing. Her mother had also managed to teach her some cooking during that time.

Third break had been spent in getting Fred and George to teach her some flying tricks and give her some tips to improve her technique. It had worked really well, as she found out the following term, when she was selected to be a chaser for the Gryffindor team. She'd replaced Alicia, who'd been down with dragon pox that summer break and had not been in any condition to run a hundred metres sprint, much less play chaser.

This break… Hmm. Ginny could read a new book. But she found that idea strangely repulsive. She wasn't Hermione! She could try to up her chess game. Nah. She could talk to her mum and tell her about her time at Hogwarts. Nope.

Ideas kept suggesting themselves to Ginny, but none of them really appealed to her. The one thing she really wanted to do was to meet her boyfriend.

Ethan Potter had asked her out just after the Christmas holidays. Charismatic and handsome, he could've chosen any witch in Hogwarts. But he chose her. Just the thought of it sent shivers running down her spine. Her! True, she was a classic beauty. High cheekbones, fair (but not overly pale) skin, red hair, a small mouth. But she had just been fourteen. Ethan had girls the ages of seventeen begging him to shag them. Hell, there were rumors of witches older than that proposing to him! Her body couldn't really compare to them. But Ethan had just smiled and told her that that was no concern. Her heart had swelled with happiness at that.

And suddenly Ginny Weasley had an idea. He had asked her out, despite the odds stacked against her. That meant he loved her. He really did. She would tell him how much that meant to her. She would give him a birthday present he would never forget. Her idea was just at a nascent stage, but she could work to bring it to fruition.

**

* * *

**

The assassin hid in the bushes, right next to a tree. He was just outside the wards of a very peculiar building. House, he amended himself. It was called, "The Burrow." Odd name, for any house. But the wards were anything but. He'd arrived here at 5 am sharp, and by seven he'd completed his scan of the wards thrice. All the wards were legal, but just barely so. They were a complex mix of ancient Egyptian and modern Brazilian wards along with some really obscure Norse ones. The assassin cursed silently. They would be hard to circumvent, even for a trained professional like himself. He took out an instrument which looked like a Geiger counter from his case, and silently set to work.

The sun was at its zenith when he returned to the spot he'd started from, having circled the house once. The assassin had not heard of this Bill Weasley who'd designed these wards. But then again, that wasn't saying much as the identities of Gringotts' curse-breakers were kept notoriously secret.

The assassin rubbed his eyes and looked at the readings of the ward-o-meter. This Weasley was good. Very good, in fact. The wards had been designed so as to make it very difficult for anyone to understand their makeup, no matter what instrument they used. He would have to go about it the old fashioned way, and it would take a long time.

The assassin reached into his bag, and took out a few moonstones. Placing ten of them on the ground, he took out his ritual knife again. Cutting his right index finger this time, he began drawing runewords on the moonstones with his blood. It took him a few minutes to write and then check the stones.

He placed the stones in a circle around the house. The first and second stone were separated by 3 metres, the second and third by nine, the third and fourth by twenty seven, and so on. The area the wards covered was huge compared to the house itself. The assassin understood the reasoning behind it. No one expected an army to attack this house. But a group of twenty or so would be hard pressed to break through the wards. They would have to circumvent them. And for them to escape, if need be, from this house, they would have to move beyond the perimeter of the wards. The greater the area the wards covered, the greater any attacker would have to run before moving out from the canopy of the Weasley wards.

The assassin settled down to wait. This would take some time.

**

* * *

**

At nine in the night, the assassin had a good plan of the wards. Enough that he could start picking the wards apart. The assassin waved his wand and muttered something. A small section of the air in front of him began glowing purple. His hand moved in complex patterns and the mutterings changed from ancient Greek to old Uighur. The purple patch in front of him changed to red, then to black, then to blue, and finally became green.

At this, the assassin stopped whatever he was doing, the thrill of victory coursing through his body. The wards had been impressive, but Weasley had made a very small mistake. He hadn't locked the tertiary programming mechanism of the wards, a fault the assassin had exploited to the fullest.

He looked at the hole in the wards in front of him. It was much too small for a human. It didn't matter. In a flash, a desert fox had taken the place of the assassin. It leapt through this hole and ran towards the house.

The fox smelled many things as it ran across the garden. The presence of garden gnomes, for example. The assassin still retained some of his abilities in his animagus form, and decided it was time to use one of them. He extended his mind outwards, lightly touching the minds of all creatures in his immediate surroundings. The fox almost stumbled as it felt the number of gnomes in the place. Weasley had been clever indeed when he'd included garden gnomes as power sources for the wards. His respect for Bill Weasley went up a notch.

As soon as the fox reached the kitchen window, it rose up on its hind legs and peeped inside. The place was cozy enough, it reckoned. A dinner table, the counters bright and polished, a matronly woman humming a light-hearted ditty as she prepared dinner, a balding man reading the newspaper on the couch by the fireplace. Yes, it was a tight-knit family home all right.

There were many redheads around. Hell, all of them were redheads. The fox looked closely at each one of them. None was a girl. The fox's jaw muscles tightened. Patience, patience. She must be up somewhere, in her room, maybe.

And there she came. Skipping down with not a care in the world, her cheeks flushed and a smile upon her lips. Ginny Weasley. The assassin had seen many photos of her which his most recent employer had given him. Gotcha.

Her arrival was heralded be a chorus of "finally" and "let's eat". The Weasley family sat down for dinner around the table. The bald man was the patriarch, the fox presumed. The man next to him was the warder, Bill Weasley. He'd been given photos of all the Weasley brothers as well, along with a detailed description of their skills. He could recognize them.

Near him was seated his prey, Ginny. Next to Ginny were the twin brothers. "Menaces", his employer had told him with a grimace. They truly looked the part. Identical grins adorned their faces and expensive dragon-hide clothes covered their bodies. He knew about their shop in Diagon alley. It sold good quality jokes and low quality defense products.

Next to the twins was seated Ron Weasley. He was Ethan Potter's best friend. That was all the assassin knew about him. The other two brothers, Charlie and Percy were in Romania and estranged from their family respectively.

The fox resigned itself to a long wait. It'd heard about the eating habits of one Ronald Weasley.

**

* * *

**

Ginny was laughing at one of Fred's jokes. Really, if she had known that goblins and Veela were such an explosive combination…

"And then he shouted, that's my pants!" said Fred, keeping a straight face as his twin dissolved into laughter. The entire table was howling with laughter. Even Molly Weasley had let her hair down today and was laughing unrestrainedly.

"I didn't know that Veela could do that." Said Bill, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Yes, yes." Said George snidely. "You would know, wouldn't you Bill?" causing Bill to mock-glower at him.

"How's Fleur doing, by the way?" asked Ginny. Truth be told, she wasn't that fond of the French Veela, but seeing that she was now Bill's wife-to-be, Ginny tolerated her.

"She's fine." Said Bill. "She wanted to meet you, by the way. She didn't tell me why, before you ask."

"Probably to discuss her relationship with Ethan." Smirked Fred. "That's what girls do, right, when they want to talk to each other? Discuss relationships?"

"Ickle Gin-Gin's growing up now" said George.

"And the boy she's picked…."

"…is such a man that we cannot…."

"…use our big brother routine…."

"…to psyche him out…"

"…and-"

"That's enough, boys." Said Arthur. Turning to Ron, he said, "Are you done?"

Ron gulped down his last morsel of food. "All done, dad."

"Good. I wanted to play a game of chess with you."

Ron grinned. Ginny and Bill grimaced. Ron's teeth were not the best sight in the world. Especially just after he'd eaten. Evidently Molly was of a similar opinion.

"Ron dear," Began Molly. "When was the last time you cleaned your teeth?"

"I dunno." Said Ron. "Probably this morning?"

"Well, clean them again."

Ginny sighed as Fred and George entered the fray.

"So," Said Bill. Ginny turned towards him. "How's Ethan?"

Ginny smiled at him, a warm glow being elicited in her stomach at the mention of her boyfriend's name. "He's good." She said. "And I really like him, Bill. I really, really like him."

Bill smiled back at her. "Good. It's what you've always wanted, right?"

Ginny blushed. It was true. Ever since she remembered, her favorite bedtime story had been that of the boy-who-lived. He was her hero, her man, her knight in shining armor, and she'd vowed to herself that she'd capture his heart by hook or by crook. She'd been thrilled when Ron had managed to become friends with Ethan during Ethan's eighth birthday celebrations. Since then, Ethan had been a regular at the Burrow. She had played chess with him, she'd won against him in exploding snap, she'd played quidditch against him. And now she was his girlfriend. Oh yes.

"Why so silent?" Teased Bill. "Is he such a diamond that words cannot convey his perfection?"

"Oh shut it, you." Ginny got up. "I'm going up to my room. G'night all."

She left for the stairs, leaving behind an arguing quartet, an amused Arthur, and a smirking Bill. She thought of looking at the various charms she could put on the present she was making. She'd probably get Hermione to help her with the harder charms when that girl came. Or maybe Fleur would be enough. She went up to her room, lost in her thoughts.

**

* * *

**

The fox's patience was wearing thin. The youngest Weasley boy was more than a match for the patriarch of the family, but Arthur was simply not giving up. The assassin wanted to finish this job as soon as possible. Lucius Malfoy had promised him fifteen grand in Galleons if he succeeded within the week. The amount was huge.

The assassin had no idea why Malfoy wanted her so desperately. He'd told the assassin that no magic was to be used on her at all. He wanted her unharmed and untouched by magic. Why? Perhaps he wanted her as a plaything. Malfoy Sr. was known for his many concubines. But that too did not tell him the reason for not using any magic on her.

Slavery had not been outlawed in the wizarding world the way it had in the muggle one. Slaves accounted for close to 20% of Britain's population, and out of those 20%, close to 70% were concubines.

The assassin did not keep any slaves himself, for it would be impossible in his line of work, but he felt that a concubine or two would be nice. Stupid muggles. Did they not know that some people were born to become slaves? Probably not. But then again, he did not understand the way muggle minds worked. He did not deal with muggles on a regular basis and hence had no desire to get to know more about them.

Finally! The duo of father and son retired to their bedrooms. The assassin changed back to his human form. The spike of magic would register on the ward logs, but with any luck, the warder would dismiss it. Animagus transformations did not take too much magic, just good concentration. He would probably just think of it as one of his siblings practicing a powerful stunning spell.

The assassin entered the kitchen through the back door, opening it the traditional way. He silently padded up the stairs, keeping to the sides. Stairs could creak at the most inappropriate times and he had no desire to be given away by such useless errors.

He crept past the warder's bedroom, past the bedroom of Arthur and Molly, to finally end up in front of young Ginny's bedroom. There was a light shining from beneath the door. The assassin, no wait, bounty hunter cursed. He'd hoped that she would be sleeping. No matter. He took out a small bottle and a cotton pad from a pocket. The bottle contained diethyl ether, which was a common solvent used for potions which required a solvent more magically inert than water. Luckily, it also happened to function as a general anesthetic.

He opened the door in a flash, and before the girl knew what was happening, she was struggling in his grip with a cotton pad soaked in ether pressed to her nose and mouth. She was unconscious in seconds.

The bounty hunter knew he had precious little time. The commotion had attracted the attention of Bill and Molly, who were sleepily making their way to her room to investigate the noises she was making while stamping her feet against the floor.

He looked right. Bingo! A window. The bounty hunter took her in his arms, and ran towards the window, crashing through it. The fall was long, but the bounty hunter was very well trained. The impact did not bother him. By now, all the sleepiness had vanished from his pursuers, and they were raining curses on him. He activated his shielding device as he ran. There was shouting, and furious cursing, but that did not deter the bounty hunter in the least. He sprinted towards his entry point, and breached the wards.

Since he was going out and not coming in, no punishment ward was able to do anything to him. But alarm bells began ringing in the house and grounds. The bounty hunter winced. That wasn't his style at all. He was silent, but deadly. Not loud. No siree.

He took out his wand and whispered a spell. The moonstones planted around the wards crumbled into fine dust. The blood on them burned away. He took out the ritual knife. He drew a small runeword on a rock with his blood and activated it. Forensics would have a hard time determining his magical signature now.

The footsteps of his pursuers were getting closer. Time to get going. He dumped her in the back seat of his R8 and sat in the driver's seat. Without further ado, he activated the hover mechanism and accelerated to 200. Bill Weasley arrived just in time to see him touch two hundred fifty and speed into the woods.

* * *

**A/N :** I'm anticipating a few questions on the shielding device, so I'll answer them right now. Its just a small clip-on someone can hook on to her belt. It projects a shield of your choice around you like a bubble, or it can focus the shield in a plate having dimensions of your choice. The bubble shield covers you completely, but can easily be broken by weaker spells. The focused shield is much stronger. In general, the smaller the area of the shield, the more its power and stability. The cheaper shielders can only project a few shields. The quality shielders can provide more variety of shields and can channel more power into it. Their main advantage is again of both power and speed. Shielders provide more power than a wand and require no wand movements, thus making them dependent only on your thoughts.

And yeah. The thoughts on slavery are not my own. While trying to think of a persuasive reason to allow slavery in the (real) world, I found out that its just a matter of the ideology of the times and the society. I just wanted to say these things out loud. Slavery is not going to be a major part of this story (yet).


	3. Delivery

**A/N : **Without Further ado, here's the next chapter!! Enjoy!!

**Disclaimer : **I do not own Harry Potter. That's J K Rowling and Warner Bros. And yeah, I'm making no money off it either.

* * *

**Delivery**

The car was swift, and with the hover mechanism on, 250 km/h was routine. The bounty hunter hit a button on the dashboard causing a hidden panel to reveal itself. He activated the inbuilt bug sweeper as the car seemingly flew through the woods.

A ten second sweep later, a light began flashing. He looked at the results of the sweep. A tracking spell on his person. That was standard; the car's inbuilt mechanism would handle it. But the bounty hunter had his doubts. Weasley was a good warder and such a stupid charm was not expected from him.

The bounty hunter suddenly steered the car off the road. The hover mechanism ensured a smooth ride. After ten minutes of driving, he parked the car next to an oak tree and got out. He took his wand and pointed it at the car, mentally revising the wand movements in his head. He then channeled his magic, focused his intent, and began to sweep the car manually for foreign spells.

Negative. The bounty hunter grunted. 'Stupid, how could the car have been charmed?' He thought angrily. It was outside the field of the wards. But the car also reported another… Oh shit.

Realization sucked the blood from his cheeks as he quickly opened the rear door. The girl. Obviously she'd have been charmed. Maybe her clothes, thought the bounty hunter hopefully. A thorough scan proved his thoughts wrong. The tracking charm was placed on her body directly.

The bounty hunter quickly reached into his pocket and took out a lighter-shaped device. Striking it, he whispered, "Lucius Malfoy."

Two minutes of impatient fidgeting later, a light on the device turned green.

"You'd better have a good reason for calling me –" The bounty hunter cut him off.

"She's got a tracking charm on her body."

A minute of stunned silence later, the voice exploded, "What the hell was Dumbledore thinking? Putting a tracking charm on her _body_. Well, you've got no time to lose. The wards at my manor will see to the tracking charm. Bring her there as soon as possible."

"Still no magic?"

"No magic." Was the firm reply.

"Understood." The bounty hunter cut the line.

He sat back in the car and turned it around. Taking a different path, he arrived back onto the road. Speeding up, he flew down the road.

**

* * *

**

Ginny stirred. Her mum was calling? No. She was bound with rope. A low rumble seemed to come from around her. Then it stopped. How strange. She heard the sound of a car door opening, then slamming shut. Oh well…

Wait. Last night… Ginny went from very sleepy to fully alert in seconds. She did not pause, however to marvel at this fact. Her mind began to supply the memories of last night at light speed. Fear coursed through her. She could only think of one thing to do. She opened her mouth to scr–

The door opened. Her scream died abruptly at that. A couple of hands grabbed her shoulders and lifted her out of the car. She was set down on the ground on her feet, facing away from the owner of those hands. The ropes binding her were cut.

"Now listen." Came a voice from behind her. "If you make a sound or try to escape, I'll knock you out. OK?"

Ginny nodded fearfully. She was in an unknown, deserted place with an unknown assailant. She was alone and defenseless, while her kidnappers might have many men.

A horrible thought crossed her mind. Was this man going to rape her? Was he going to have his way with her before throwing her to the dogs? Or worse, carving the dark mark on her body? Her knees were already knocking against each other. Now her legs began to give away.

"Whoa!" Said the voice. "Steady now! I'm not going to hurt you. I just thought that it's been eight hours since you were first bundled into the car and you'd like to freshen up and have something to eat."

Ginny's thoughts, which had gone from fearful to morbid, came to a screeching halt. She suddenly smelt something fishy. A friendly kidnapper?

"Wait a minute." Words burst out of Ginny's mouth. She started to turn about. Two hands immediately grabbed her shoulders and applied pressure, forcing her to stop. Her fear, which was fading, gave a small spike at that, before seemingly subsiding. "You're one of Fred and George's pranks, right?"

The man behind her laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. It sent shivers of fear running down Ginny's spine. "You think I'm a joke?" His voice had lost the friendly quality now. "I assure you," Ginny gave a slight jump as she felt his breath at the back of her neck. "I'm no joke." Her fear suddenly returned in full force.

He released one shoulder. Suddenly a hand appeared in front of her, clutching a burger. "Eat this. You're not going to get anything after this." She took the burger with trembling hands, her mouth dry with fear. "Water." Said the voice, and a bottle materialized in front of her, floating at eye level.

A strategy struck her. She took the burger in one hand, and struck back with the other. Her hand hit a solid barrier. She stifled a scream, trying to control the fear in her body.

"Think you can get away that easily, eh?" The voice was almost silky. "Eat up, little girl."

"I need to go to the bathroom." Stammered Ginny, trying to buy more time.

The voice muttered something, and suddenly cloth walls appeared around her, and a hole appeared in the ground. Ginny swallowed and did her thing.

"I'm done." She called out. The temporary room disappeared. A chair appeared behind her, and a table in front of her. She swept her eyes desperately in front of her. Nope. No distinguishing landmark. She sat down, and began to eat.

"Aren't you even going to tell me your name?" asked Ginny.

A laugh sounded behind her. "If you can't see my face, and don't hear my real voice, why do you believe that my name will be revealed to you?"

"Well," began Ginny desperately. "Not your real one, then. Just something I can know my captor by."

There was a pause, as if the man was deliberating on something. "You may call me the Desert Fox."

The Desert Fox. Ginny had never heard that name before. She searched her memory. Something seemed to be wriggling just outside her grasp. Something Hermione had been talking about very recently, on the train ride actually… Yes!

"Rommel!" exclaimed Ginny, heart in mouth. "You're Erwin Rommel?"

A full blown laugh sounded from behind her. Ginny felt foolish, and a little relieved. Erwin Rommel was a wizard directly under Grindelwald. He had been feared by muggles and wizards alike, and had finally been defeated by the mage Montgomery. If Rommel had somehow been brought back to life, or had never died… Ginny shuddered.

"I'm no Rommel." Said the voice, bemusedly. "Trust me, if I was, I would not be here, kidnapping you. Now eat up. We have several more miles to cover before we reach our destination."

Ginny nodded and tentatively bit into her burger. It was good, not a standard Frank's 'greasy', as it was popularly called. She dug into it, surprised by her own hunger. It was over in minutes and left her feeling very full.

"Wow!" exclaimed her captor. "What an exhibition! Now bed time."

A cotton pad was suddenly clamped on her mouth and nose. Before Ginny knew what was going on, she was fast asleep.

**

* * *

**

The Desert Fox shifted into fifth gear as he entered the main highway. A button on the dashboard changed his license plate. No point giving the MLE a head start if he could help it. A signal obscuring charm on the car was enough to dampen the girl's signal to a level he found acceptable. He drove past many MLE Blockades without incident. Tinted windows and expensive cars were usually ignored by the MLE. No point in offending a rich guy. The

It took them six hours to arrive at Malfoy Manor. Imposing double gates opened automatically as the car neared. The Desert Fox approved. Malfoy was expecting them.

The R8 made its way up the long driveway. The Manor came fully into view, and he could not help but let out a low whistle. It reminded him of Ravenhof Manor in Strabroek. He did not know about the insides, but the outsides of the manor were graceful and commanding. Certainly worthy of a family which had been at the very forefront of magical Britain since the 1600's.

But he had better things to do than to admire the architecture, however praiseworthy it might be. He spied a lone figure standing at the porch and stopped the car a few metres away from him. The Desert Fox got out the car and looked at the man warily.

This person had slicked blond hair and very cold, gray eyes. His face bespoke of his hardness and ruthlessness. A white T-shirt covered his muscled torso and a black pant his legs. Polished black shoes completed his ensemble. A single look of appraisal was all the two shared. The Desert Fox saw the briefcase at his feet and understood that this was the person who would be paying him. Yet, it had not been part of the deal.

"Please take me to Lucius Malfoy." said the Desert Fox, in a polite but firm voice.

"He is out of town." Came the reply. "I am to complete this business in his stead."

"And you are?"

"Draco Malfoy, his son."

"You have the money?"

Draco hefted the briefcase. "Yes. Where is the girl?"

"In the car." Replied the Desert Fox, moving back to his car, his eyes on Draco. Draco Malfoy was not very well known, but that meant nothing. He was just sixteen, and the Malfoy family was known for the strength of its Magi. The Desert Fox had been trained to measure his opponents' skills in a variety of ways, and just looking at them would give him a very good first impression. And Draco gave the impression of being strong. His posture, his expression (or rather, the lack of it) and his eyes told the Desert Fox that fighting with him on his home turf after such a job would be bad at best, and suicide at worst.

He took Weasley out. Draco looked at her. "You have used no magic on her?" He asked, already taking out his wand.

"No. That had been specified by Mr. Malfoy."

Draco muttered something, and a purple glow erupted at the end of his wand. He ran the wand along her body contours before nodding. "Good. Here is your payment."

"All fifteen?"

Draco turned to him. "Do you not trust me?"

"You've given me no reason to." There was a pause. "Why do you want her?"

"Why do you care?"

"I don't care. I'm just curious."

"It wasn't part of your job to know the reason behind my father's decisions."

"True, but I still want to."

Draco stared at the Desert Fox, and the assassin-turned-bounty hunter stared back. Both looked at each other straight in the eyes without blinking. There was no expression on either face. The Desert Fox knew that if push came to shove, Draco could probably win, seeing that he was well rested and quite strong. But the Desert Fox was no slouch either. He would give Draco quite a run for his money.

A low moan from Ginny pulled them out of their silent posturing. Draco handed the Desert Fox the money and the Desert Fox got back into the car, putting the briefcase on the back seat. He did not count the money. Lucius was known for his honesty in such dealings, and he had promised to deliver the exact amount. Lucius's word could be taken to the bank, and so the Desert Fox had decided to trust his son as well.

**

* * *

**

Anyway, thought the Desert Fox as he pulled out of the driveway, job's done, now comes the fun. He was looking forward to relaxing in his Irish house and going to the baths. The magical world still had a refined version of the Roman baths. The Desert Fox wondered how muggles did without them.

As he accelerated, he passed a couple of shops. His stomach growled. Hmm… He looked at the time. It was four. Perfect for a snack. A Goldman's Diner was just ten minutes away. The Desert Fox sighed contentedly. Growing people needed a lot of food. He smiled. He'd forgotten that. Being an assassin at the age of sixteen was very tiring work. Waiters, customers and occasionally his own house-elf Dorothy would be surprised at his appetite. As a very cute girl had once told him, he had no stomach, but a well. Calling it a bottomless pit didn't do it justice.

Goldman's Diner came into view, and the Desert Fox parked his car. He had once been a very regular customer here and he hoped that the restaurant owner would still recognize him. And more importantly, give him a discount. Smiling, he strolled in.

**

* * *

**

'That was fun', thought the Desert Fox as he came out. The Macaroni was just as he remembered it and the ice-cream was even better. Better texture, actually.

He was in a fine mood. He strolled towards a small garden he spied. Many people were walking there, but crowds did not bother the Desert Fox unduly. He walked along, enjoying the breeze and the clear skies. A job done, food in his stomach, and fifteen grand in the car. It was perfect. What could go wrong?

Wrong thought, pretty boy. Just as it popped into his head, a resounding boom sounded. Something had exploded, and the explosion had been so large, that the Desert Fox was knocked flat on his back. He had been lucky. The shockwave had blown many people off their feet and slammed them against walls or trees. The Desert Fox winced as a man crashed into the wall and the sound of something cracking reached his ears. Not the bricks.

He looked up. There was screaming and mass hysteria. Obviously. The Desert Fox couldn't care less. What had exploded? He moved towards the source of the shockwave, an unexplainable uneasiness spreading its way throughout his body. Something was wrong. Big time wrong. His intuition never lied. And right now, it was buzzing like a swarm of bees at the base of his neck.

He entered Goldman's via the rear door. The glass had shattered and many people were lying on the floor, bleeding. The Desert Fox ignored their cries and pleas for aid. He looked around for the proprietor. He too was unconscious and bleeding. The Desert fox let him be, and stepped out into the parking lot. And stopped dead.

His car was burning. No. Burning was not an adequate enough word. Probably lying-on-the-ground-in-such-a-way-that-no-magic-would-be-enough-to-restore-it would be more appropriate. It looked as if a localized nuclear bomb had been set off be somebody. A small crater marked the ground where his beloved R8 once stood. The car in question was now a rapidly solidifying liquid.

Fury claimed the assassin's mind. Malfoy. He had acted in bad faith. He had slipped him a bomb, and he had been stupid enough to fall for one of the oldest tricks in the book. Malfoy…

The Desert Fox was still not calm when aurors began popping into the place. As soon as soon as they saw the crater, most of them stopped dead in their tracks. A few, however, braved the heat to approach the Desert Fox.

"You there, sir." Said an Auror who was walking towards him. "What happened?"

The Desert Fox snorted. "What does it look like? We're standing in the parking lot, and there's a crater here. It's filled with liquid metal and the temperature around is immense. The cars around have been blown away." He turned towards the squirming Auror. "I'd guess," he continued sarcastically, "that a car just exploded here. What do you think?"

The Auror was tomato-red now. "Well, sir… We'll requite a statement from you. Do you have any idea who the owner of that car is?"

"No." Said the Desert Fox. "And if you'll excuse me, I've got to go. I have a bus to catch."

The auror said something before walking away, but the Desert Fox was barely listening. Malfoy will pay. He will wish he'd never been born. He will rue the day he thought of putting the bomb in the suitcase. The desert fox vowed to himself that Malfoy would be brought down, by hook or by crook. A grim smile made its way across his face. He'd just stumbled upon the perfect plan…

* * *

**A/N :** Putting Tracking charms on the body interferes with the body's own magnetic and magical fields. This is not fully understood and predictably, quite dangerous. To prevent this from happening, a ritual involving Hippogriff and Thestral Blood is used. However it is considered a dark ritual and requires the sacrifice of ten virgins. Obviously, Dumbledore's not gonna do _that_.

Frank's is the wizarding equivalent Of McDonalds.

The aurors used emergency action one-time-use portkeys. Portkeys can easily be monitered by the ministry and the spell for creating untraceable portkeys is known to only a selected few (viz. Dumbledore, Voldemort, their high profile lackeys) and requires a high amount of magical energy. The ministry can monitor these portkeys behind any ward.


	4. Plans, old and new

**A/N :** Another Chappie... (Sighs despondently), many more to go. Anyway. My next post will be a little late. It will be after the eleventh of May, probably on the thirteenth. I thank my reviewers again. You know how good they make me feel. If you don't, guess! Hope you all like this chapter. Took me quite a lot of time to write it. It forms the base for all that is to come.

And yes. I made a small mistake in the summary in terminology. Forgive me if it led some of you to add the story in anticipation of the event of Ethan Potter being declared the wrong BWL. He is the correct BWL. Dumbledore has made no mistake, I have (in the summary).

**Disclaimer : **I do not own Harry Potter. That's J K Rowling and Warner Bros. And yeah, I'm making no money off it either.

* * *

**Plans, old and new**

Albus Dumbledore nodded to his chauffer as he climbed into the Rolls Royce waiting for him. He'd been attending a meeting of the board of governors of Hogwarts. The body was a very important part of the wizarding world, and as such had members as diverse as Sir Philip Matthews and Lucius Malfoy. The crème de la crème of both the dark and light sides sought a place among the governors. And some neutrals were present as well. The board would ideally have equal representation from both sides, and right now, both the light and the dark sides had an equal number of people, namely three. Dumbledore held the advantage, however, as four of the six neutrals supported him. Any advantage he had with the management was very good for business.

As his chauffer Filch drove through the dusty Hogsmeade roads, Albus allowed his mind to wander. He wondered what Ethan Potter would be doing. Studying? A small smile made its way to Albus's face. Nah. The boy needed either Lily or Miss Granger around to even consider looking at a book. Lily would be busy with order work, while Miss Granger was in Switzerland. Alastor would drop by in a few days to start training the boy in basic defense techniques and to coach him in defensive spells. Ethan was powerful, but lazy. Albus shook his head. Alastor would take care of that.

He looked out of the car wearily, watching the hustle and bustle of Hogsmeade. The place had been a village when he had been a child, close to 130 years ago. But now it was a centre of commerce and learning. Zonko's was now a ten storied building, instead of the small hut it had been a century ago. Honeydukes had renovated itself. The sweet shop was now renowned even in Switzerland. Dumbledore smiled as he thought of the association he had with the owners. They had been good friends, and Albus still got his entire supply of lemon drops from this place.

The street lights seemed to race by, as Albus stared out, lost in thought. Pleasant memories intruded onto his thoughts, washing away the cares of today. He closed his eyes as he thought of the adventures of his youth, his first meeting with Nicholas Flamel, his excitement at the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon blood, his –

Dumbledore lurched forward as the car abruptly slowed. He opened his eyes to see a cursing Filch shaking his fist at a driver who'd jumped the signal. Dumbledore closed his eyes again as the car moved forward.

This war had been hard on the Order. True, they had funds, people and ideology on their side, but their enemies were not short on it either. This war, as well as the first war against Lord Voldemort had not been anything like the war with Grindelwald, when the government was putting heart and soul into stopping the German Juggernaut, and all internal differences had been washed away as the country had formed itself into a single, cohesive unit. Albus himself had stopped teaching and had led the armies from the front. But this war was completely different. It was as close to a civil war as it could get.

Lord Voldemort was as powerful as Albus himself, if not more, and was a very charismatic and charming man. He had tapped into the fear purebloods had of Half-bloods and Muggleborns and unleashed it in the most devastating way he could. He'd created new divisions in a country which had very few, and Albus could never condone that.

But anyway, the important point was that the ministry was taking no sides now. The Auror corps was sharply divided, the management was corrupt to the core, and the threat of new warlords rising was very real. The ministry was in such a position where half of its people were from the dark side, and half from the light. The Aurors, whenever they arrived at a scene of a Death Eater battle could enter into the fray from both sides. Dumbledore shuddered. That was the worst part of the war. The uncertainty. Sun-Tzu had once said that the fog of war could never be lifted. Dumbledore had not believed him until this war.

They were coming close to Hogwarts. Dumbledore opened his eyes to see the beautiful castle, and he smiled. It was his home, and it would remain his home for the rest of his days. No Dark Lord would take it away from him. He _would_ see to that.

The gates opened as the car drove up to them, and it continued on without slowing. Hagrid waved to Dumbledore from the part of the grounds he was looking after, and Albus waved back. He looked at the doors of the castle to find a single figure clad in black waiting for him. Severus. Albus kept looking at him until the car stopped right next to him. Snape opened the door and Albus climbed out.

"Headmaster." It was a simple statement. No more, no less.

"Severus."

"How went your meeting?"

"As well as it could have gone, Severus. Lucius wants to push forward a bill to reduce our spending, but I'm confident that I can stop him from doing so."

"Indeed."

They climbed up the stone steps into the entrance hall. It was one in the night, and not a soul was up. Even Mrs. Norris was nowhere to be seen. Hmm… Strange.

"Where is everyone, Severus?"

Severus snorted. "Sleeping, Albus. What do you expect, they deserve some sleep now that the students aren't here."

"Yes…" Dumbledore trailed off. "But even Mrs. Norris?"

"Just because you can't see her here that doesn't mean she's not awake."

"That might be for you, Severus, but not for me. She is sleeping, and that too quite nearby."

Severus looked at him, a little puzzled. "How do you know?"

"I have my ways." Replied Albus mysteriously.

It seemed ominous to Dumbledore, this silence. Something was about to happen, and something big. He pushed the dread out of his mind, though. Severus was in a talkative mood, and that was a very rare happening. They climbed up to the seventh floor, discussing inconsequential happenings. It would really be an eye-opener for the staff, Albus mused, if they saw Snape like this. Gossiping.

They reached Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore turned to Severus. "I guess I'll be –"

A red light began blinking on his wristwatch. Red light. Wristwatch. That could mean just one thing.

"Severus," bellowed Dumbledore. "Upstairs with me!"

**

* * *

**

Dumbledore reached his office at warp speed, Severus close behind. Dumbledore pressed a button on his desk. "Yes?"

"Albus, its Bill."

"What happened?"

"Ginny's been kidnapped and the MLE's here. You said to inform you about anything happening to Ginny…"

Bill continued on, but Albus was barely listening. Ginny Weasley kidnapped? It simply couldn't be. Ginny... Who would know enough to kidnap her?

Albus interrupted Bill's speech. "Who was it, Bill?"

"No clue, Albus. All I know is that he had black hair and was wearing stealth fabric."

Albus cursed silently. This wasn't supposed to happen. He turned to Severus, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "Call Alastor, and tell him to come to the Weasleys' place immediately."

Severus nodded and went to Albus's desk.

Meanwhile, Albus started checking the tracking charm he had placed on her body. True, it was very dangerous and quite possibly illegal, but Albus hadn't got where he was by purely legal means. And besides, she was more important than a bunch of legalese spouting pencil pushers.

The charm was still broadcasting, but Albus would simply not be able to get to her location using it. Whoever the kidnapped was, he'd placed a good obscuring charm on her, and the charm was barely transmitting. Albus tore his eyes from it. He needed to go to the Weasleys' house right away.

"Severus." Called out Albus, as he fished out a keychain from his pockets. He muttered a complicated charm as the thing turned into a portkey. He and Severus grabbed the portkey as it whirled them straight towards Molly Weasley's house.

**

* * *

**

Dumbledore's feet slammed into the ground as Snape landed next to him. The house was bustling with activity. MLE here, forensics there… Dumbledore's eyes quickly sought the man in charge. A quick word and the house was empty.

Bill Weasley was standing in his pyjamas next to Arthur, whose exhausted face nevertheless showed alertness. Next to them was Molly Weasley, stubbornly holding back her tears in front of the headmaster. Dumbledore could see the tear tracks on her cheeks, and guilt asserted itself. How could he have let another family be torn apart? What would the kidnappers do to Ginny Weasley?

Dumbledore had maybe a moment's warning before Alastor Moody appeared out of nowhere clutching an old shoe. The grizzled auror nodded to Dumbledore and Arthur, before walking off towards the house, taking Bill with him. Dumbledore could hear them talking about the attack and its style as the old Auror took out his wand and began to search the surrounding area.

He turned to Snape. "Go help them."

Snape obeyed, but not before giving Dumbledore a trademark scowl. Dumbledore now turned to Arthur. "Arthur," he began gently. "What exactly happened?"

"Molly knows better than me, Albus."

Dumbledore turned to the Weasley matriarch. She took a deep breath before looking at him straight in the eye. He nodded encouragingly.

"Albus," her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and began again. "Albus, the day was going on as well as it usually does. Nothing unusual happened until the night. We were all arguing when Ginny took her leave and left for bed. It was nothing unusual, she always slept a lot, we never thought –" Her voice broke. Arthur put a comforting hand on her shoulders and squeezed. "Anyway," she sniffed and wiped her eyes. "We then went to bed. Arthur went to sleep straight away, while I remained up, reading a book.

"Suddenly I heard a sound. It sounded like something was thumping hard on the ceiling. I got out of bed and went to check on Ginny. Arthur was still asleep. As soon as I got out of bed, I saw Bill as well. The two of us went to check on Ginny. But before we'd even reached the half-way point, there was an earsplitting crash and a thump. Both of us rushed to her room. But by the time we reached, her kidnapper was already half-way across the lawn. Both of us fired some curses at him, but because of the distance and his shielder, we didn't land a single shot on him.

"Bill ran down to stop him, and I went to wake Arthur. The twins were already up. I told them to take Ron and go to Potter Manor. I then woke Arthur up and ran down to meet Bill. He had lost him. The guy had come in an Audi R8, had black hair and wore clothes made of stealth fabric. That's all we could glean."

Molly fell silent, looking at Dumbledore anxiously. At some point in her speech, her reserve had broken down completely. Tears were falling silently down her cheeks while Arthur held her, his own eyes wet.

Dumbledore turned to Arthur. "Have you anything to add to what she has already said?"

Arthur shook his head silently, not trusting his tongue.

"Why Albus," burst out Molly. "Why her? Why not anyone else? What's so special about Ginny that she was kidnapped?"

Dumbledore sighed before opening his mouth to answer. "There is n –"

"And Albus," Arthur cut him off, an edge to his voice now. "You told us that you'd done all you could to keep her safe. Apparently, it wasn't enough. Care to explain?"

Molly gave him a tear stained reproving look, but Arthur did not budge. His eyes continued boring into Albus's.

Albus sighed, and took off his spectacles. He gathered a fistful of his robes, and began cleaning them. Outward he appeared weary and calm, but inside, his mind was racing at three hundred sixty an hour. The importance of Ginny Weasley could not be overstated. If he were to tell Arthur and Molly about it, he would be barred from going ahead with his plans. That could simply not be allowed. Oh no. If Ginny Weasley's usefulness was made public, then Albus's plans would be busted. The thing was, that if any side was to come into possession of a girl like Ginny Weasley, then the victory of that side was all but assured. And Albus was sure that there was no other magical girl like Ginny.

A shout made them all turn around. A scowling Moody, a sheepish Bill and an extremely angry Snape were walking towards them. Snape marched right up to the headmaster. He was a sight to behold. Sweat covered his face and drenched his robes, while drops of it fell off from his greasy hair. His expression was _furious. _But best of all were his eyes. If looks could kill, Albus was sure that both Bill and Alastor would be long dead.

"Is Weasley your best warder, Albus?" The question caught Albus off guard, though he did not allow it to appear on his face.

"Yes, why do you ask?" Dumbledore had a sneaking suspicion that they had managed to isolate the reason for the attacker's success.

"Because," said Snape, nostrils flared. "Your _best_ warder makes such elementary mistakes, that they nearly blow my head off!"

"What do you mean?"

"Forget it, Snape. That's not important." Said Moody, his scowl deepening. "The real thing is, that this ass", he ignored the cries from the Weasley matriarch, "Forgot to lock the tertiary programming mechanism of the wards.

"When we looked at the logs, we found out that the tertiary programming mechanism had been used to change the programming of the wards, effectively rendering them useless in a certain area. The area was not enough for any human to squeeze through, so our suspect must have gotten through by other means. If he'd actually gotten through this hole, my guess is that the guy has a small animagus form."

Dumbledore turned to Bill, all weariness gone from his face. "Explain this mistake."

Bill squirmed under the gaze of the Headmaster. It wasn't a big fault, Dumbledore knew that, but any fault which had been exploited was important enough to be given consideration. "The tertiary mechanism," said Bill despondently, "Is not used very often. In fact, it is a pain to even access it for normal control. For an intruder, accessing the tertiary mechanism is very rare. I simply didn't think of it."

"You are the very best we have, Bill." Admonished Dumbledore. "Do not make such mistakes again. This time, the consequences have been severe enough that you won't think of making another such mistake, right?"

Bill nodded dejectedly, before moving towards his parents.

Dumbledore did not wish to linger. "Have you got everything?"

"Yes." Replied Snape.

"Yes" Replied Alastor.

"Good. We're going to headquarters. Severus, ring the alarm. Alastor and Arthur, stay with me."

He made a portkey for Potter Manor, their headquarters, and activated it after Arthur, Moody and Snape had put their hands on it.

**

* * *

**

James was waiting for them when they arrived. The head of the Potter clan was still a very handsome man, even at the age of thirty seven. Tall, at 6 feet 3 inches, James was said to be a model auror. His fitness levels were legendary and he could wipe the floor with anyone in a duel. His simulator scores had never been beaten by any auror still in service. He was also a great asset for the order of the phoenix. Like his father Alexander before him, James had allowed use of parts of the manor to the order. And more importantly, he was the father of Ethan Potter, the boy-who-lived.

"Headmaster." Said James. "A pleasure as always." Dumbledore accepted the greeting with a tired smile. James nodded to Moody and Arthur, and sneered at Snape before moving towards the Order's meeting room. This was a very unusual greeting. Moody was James's old teacher, and James would usually bow in the old style to him. Arthur would always shake hands with him. Snape, on the other hand, was insulted and belittled. The fact that none of them said anything about it was heartening. They all understood the magnitude of the emergency.

"How many have already arrived, James?" Asked Dumbledore.

"None, Albus. Sirius is on his way, while Elphias and Hestia will attend using the floo . Lily's working on contacting the rest of them who might be needed in such a situation."

They reached the meeting room to find Lily waiting for them in her nightgown. James went to her and slid his arm around her slim waist possessively.

"Albus." Lily greeted him with tired eyes. She acknowledged the others with mere nods.

"I'm sorry, Lily." Began Albus, "To disturb you at this time of the night."

"No matter, Albus. Ginny's practically family. And even if it weren't Ginny, we wouldn't have minded."

"Have my sons –" began Arthur.

"Yes Arthur. Its barely a fifteen minute drive from your house to ours, after all." Replied James, a small smile on his face.

"I accommodated them in the guest rooms, as Ethan was sleeping." Said Lily. "He'll have a nice surprise waiting for him in the morning."

There came the sound of a door slamming and hurried footsteps. A moment later Sirius Black rushed into the room. "Am I late? Has the meeting started?"

Albus smiled, his eyes twinkling. Sirius's mere presence served to lighten the atmosphere, whatever the situation. He could see that James was grinning, Arthur seemed less downcast, and even Moody's scowl had lightened. The only person not affected was Severus, whose expression had darkened at seeing Black.

"No Sirius," replied Lily, "The meeting's not yet started. We're waiting for some people."

"So what really is the situation?" Sirius had asked the question on everyone's mind. "Ginny Weasley's been kidnapped, right?" Arthur nodded. "Do we know how, and more importantly, by whom?"

Mad-eye replied, "Positive for the first, negative for the second."

"Are we even close to finding out who it was?" Shot back Sirius.

"No."

"Then wh –"

There was a whoosh as two fireplaces lit up. Bright green flames shot up, but emitted no heat. A single head was floating in the fire in each fireplace. The heads greeted everyone and everyone greeted them back. The meeting had officially started.

Albus quickly filled them in on everything. "So now," he continued, "Our priority is to find out where Ginny is, and who has kidnapped her. We also need to find out the fastest way of saving her.

"Hestia, I need you to round up all your contacts in the floo department and see if anything Ginny related has been said recently. Elphias, you have been a detective. Time to put your old talents to the test again, my friend."

Elphias and Hestia nodded, before signing off. Albus turned to Severus. "Severus…" There was no need to say more. Albus felt a weight settle into his stomach as he watched Severus move towards the entrance of the room, and vanish from sight. He would always have to send Severus to his death, and he knew that he would always do it without hesitation. But that never stopped him from feeling bad about it.

Arthur looked tiredly at Albus. "Can you make me a portkey back home?" Albus acquiesced to this demand. Arthur nodded to him, wished the Potters a good night, then activated the portkey. Moody too excused himself. He went past them, muttering about incompetent warders and stupid detectives.

Albus looked at the Potters and Black in front of him. A wave of tiredness washed over him as the adrenaline began wearing off. I'm growing old, he mused, before chuckling.

"You know, Albus," said James conversationally, "Laughing for no reason is the first sign of madness."

"Is that so, James?" responded Albus innocently. "You would know all about it, wouldn't you?"

James flushed. A year back, the Weasley twins had managed to upstage the marauders in a prank war in Potter manor. The Marauders would laugh unrestrainedly whenever anyone would attempt to talk to them. Albus smirked. James had really fallen into this one.

"Enough of the chit-chat." Said Lily firmly. "Mad or not, this is not the time." She turned to Dumbledore. "Tell us everything you know."

Albus sighed again. "I'm sorry, Lily. I don't know much here. And that's the problem. We don't know enough. This attacker, whoever he was, seems to be a very capable man. He found a very little known and hard to use mechanism for manipulating Bill's wards. He then managed to escape from everyone. MLE has even put up barricades throughout the country to catch this guy at my behest." Dumbledore sank into a chair. "To no avail. He must be using the secondary roads."

Silence prevailed throughout the room as everyone tried to think of a way to track her. "Albus!" cried Lily suddenly. "Didn't you put a tracking charm on her?"

"You think I haven't thought of that? I've tried to find her using it. It was broadcasting faintly a while ago, but now there's too much interference. This kidnapper is very good, And I believe that it might not be any death Eater who did this."

The atmosphere in the room grew very still as everyone absorbed the implications of Dumbledore's statement. A new player in town. This was not good. Not at all.

"Are…" James coughed nervously. "Are you sure?"

Dumbledore turned his back to them, walking towards the portrait wall. The portrait was of a very ugly man beside a woman who could only be called jaw-droppingly beautiful. The founders of the Potter Dynasty. The ugly man had been the fount of their power, while the woman was the source of their good looks. Or so historians claimed. But right now, Dumbledore's mind was thinking about that in a very detached sense as he thought this idea through. Could there be a new player?

"No, James." Said Dumbledore at last. "But we should consider this possibility. Death eaters have always brought down our wards with brute force, not subtlety. This is simply not their style."

"We should alert the Order contingents in all major cities." Advised Sirius, sinking into a beige couch. "If anyone sees her, we would know where she is."

Albus nodded. "Good idea. We do it tomorrow. Till then, Lily, I hope you can lend me a nightcap? I've had a very long day today."

**

* * *

**

A full-fledged Order meeting had been called. All the Order squad leaders from Tristram (their current city) were there in person. The fireplaces on the walls were filled with floating heads. The local heads of the order from each city were attending this meeting. Albus Dumbledore looked at the silent assembly around him. The mood in the room was somber. One of their own had suffered a devastating loss, and sympathetic vibes could be felt within the room.

"Friends," began Albus, "We have suffered a great loss. One of our own has lost his daughter to a kidnapper. It was no ordinary kidnapping, I can assure you that. This was a job done by someone who is very good at what he does. A professional.

"We all suspect the usual crowd, namely Death Eaters. However, they have never done something like this before. It is highly unusual for them to be able to spirit away someone like this. I request you all to be vigilant in your cities. It is imperative that Ginny Weasley be found, and found quickly."

Albus sat down as one of the squad leaders from Brighton began speaking. Albus tuned him out. Brighton was no Death Eater stronghold. Where could Ginny Weasley be? In the unlikely event that Death Eaters _had _captured her, where would they keep her?

Suddenly a door slammed open, and Severus ran into the room, slightly out of breath. Dumbledore rose from his seat, the expression on Severus's face telling him almost everything. The entire room quieted as Severus rushed to Albus's side, breathing hard. Albus gave him ten seconds to catch his breath before asking him, "Well?"

"Albus," Severus wheezed, "The Dark Lord has her." He sat down on an empty chair pushed forward by Jared Hoth. "She was captured by the aid of a bounty hunter called 'The Desert Fox'."

Dumbledore felt a weight settle in the pit of his stomach. The Desert Fox. Renowned in the criminal underworld as the assassin who brought down the popular Russian leader Vlad Zemnatsky with a single bullet, he was said to be a fearsome warrior. Almost as dangerous as Rommel himself.

"And," continued Severus, conscious of the attention the room was giving him, "She is being held at Malfoy Manor. Draco Malfoy has managed to kill the Desert Fox, so there is no witness to the act."

At the name of Draco Malfoy, Molly Weasley grew pale, and slumped down on her seat, silently crying. Everyone averted their eyes from her, allowing her to be alone in her grief. Lucius was known for his taste in concubines. It was obvious what would happen to her in Malfoy Manor.

Dumbledore was not worried about that, however. He knew it would not happen. So you know now, do you Tom? Dumbledore cursed himself for his stupidity. Of course he knew, how could he not know?

The door opened once again, as Nymphadora Tonks tripped in. "Sorry I'm late," she called, picking herself up from the floor. "An exploding car kept me busy."

"So you witnessed the death of the Desert Fox." Muttered Snape.

"Death? No one died in that blast! People were injured, but there was no death."

"What!" exclaimed Snape. "No death? Did you see the owner of the car?"

"Yes. Dawlish even interviewed him."

Snape turned to Albus, and Albus looked back at Snape. His mind was whirling. He turned to his men. "People, I've come to a decision." Everyone's attention focused on Albus. "We attack Malfoy manor today. At nightfall. Everyone physically in this room stays. The rest of you barring Kingsley may leave."

It took half a minute for everyone to leave. Those thirty seconds seemed like ages to Dumbledore. Once the last of the city heads minus Kingsley had left, Dumbledore began. "Now, we need to arrange a plan to storm Malfoy Manor…"

* * *

**A/N : **For those of you who've played Diablo, I guess that the name Tristram is familiar? All righty. A brief description of magical Britain at this time. Its densely populated, basically the same as the real Britain. Since Apparition and Floo travel are not present in my universe, both the order and the Death Eaters have a presence in every city. They fight for turf in each city. Some cities like Tristram and Hogsmeade have very few Death Eaters, while some (Not decided their names) have a negligible order presence. Fighting is usually guerrilla style in the streets.

The Aurors swing both sides. Some are order members while some are certified death eaters. The ministry has clout, but only to the extent Dumbledore and Voldemort give it.


	5. The Assault

**A/N:** Forgive me people. Injuries are excuse enough not to be writing for 2 months. I know that I had promised a deadline, but extenuating circumstances... Oh well. Lemme not waste your time. Once again, thank you all my reviewers and the people who've stuck by me for such a long time. This story's no great feat, but the lot of you make me think it is. Enjoy, men, women, and Childen alike!

**Disclaimer : **I do not own Harry Potter. That's J K Rowling and Warner Bros. And yeah, I'm making no money off it either.

* * *

**The Assault**

The Desert Fox looked around him as the bus sped off. He was in a charming neighbourhood in the suburb of Merlinsburgh. Every house around him was a marvel of architecture, splendour and taste. However, admiring houses was the last thing on his mind as he strode towards the house in front of him.

The house itself was charming. A three-storied town house, it was coloured buttercup yellow from the outside. The architect, whoever he was, had done a marvellous job of designing the exteriors.

As he walked up to the door, he could not help noticing the attention seemingly paid to the garden. Magical plants were growing left right and centre. However, theirs was not an arbitrary growth. Someone had taken great pains to plant them where they were, and the result was an organized chaos, which looked very pretty to him.

The Desert Fox was not easily distracted though, as he climbed up the porch steps to ring the doorbell. He rang the bell and waited. His wait was not long. A woman opened the door, and gasped upon seeing him. "Hadrian? Hadrian Potter?"

"Nadia." Hadrian greeted her in kind. Nadia was a very fetching woman, with a cute, oval face. Her complexion was fair, though not pale enough to be called sickly. Her hair was midnight black, precisely the same colour as her eyes. She was, as any sane person would say, an English beauty. Her figure was well formed, with all her curves rightly proportioned. The only flaw in her beauty was a small crescent-shaped scar on her left cheek, just below her eye.

The twenty-nine year old woman opened the door wide and stepped forward into Hadrian's embrace. Hadrian, a.k.a. the Desert Fox, smiled despite his situation. There was just something about Nadia which made Hadrian feel happy and comfortable, whatever his situation.

Nadia disengaged from his embrace and led him inside. The room was artfully decorated, and a connoisseur would probably drool over the paintings hanging on the walls, but Hadrian was not in such a mood that day. He gave the room a cursory glance before turning to Nadia.

"I want that case I gave you the other day."

Nadia's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Now?"

"Yes." Replied Hadrian. "Time is of essence."

Nadia rushed out of the room, and in what seemed to be no time, came out with a steel box which she was struggling to roll across the floor.

Hadrian jumped up and helped her with it. He looked at her. "I'll need a private room."

Wordlessly she led him to small room and left him there, shutting the door.

Hadrian sighed. This was not something he wanted her to be a part of, however small. But he needed to do this. No one ever double crossed the Desert Fox and got away with it. He opened the case. There was a pneumatic hiss as the box opened to reveal its sacred contents. There was dragon-hide armor reinforced with nanotubes, an assault rifle (the DF-56), a shielder (custom made), a couple of Desert Eagles and a few grenades. There were tools to break wards, to break walls and cause mayhem in general. His usual kit. There was also a wand holster. All in black.

Black. Hadrian smiled. There was no humour in it. In fact, it held the pain of a prolonged and excruciating death for anyone who dared interrupt him. Yes. Black really put him into killing mode. It was his instructor's favourite colour, and he loved it. When he wanted to kill, that is.

**

* * *

**

Hadrian came out of the room, fully dressed again. The armour was hidden under his clothes, and seeing that it had Demiguise hair woven into it, was not easily seen by anyone who was not specifically looking for it. His various guns were in various holsters throughout his body, and in his hands was a key to a Mercedes in Nadia's garage. The car was simple enough. It was, after all, just a form of transport. Not like his R8. His R8 had been highly modified and heavily armed.

Nadia was waiting for him in the living room, her face showing all the worry she was feeling. As soon as she saw him, her face broke into a worried smile. She rushed to him and hugged him, her black hair tickling his chin. "Be careful, Hadrian." She whispered into his chest. "I'd rather not lose my brother to anything."

Hadrian felt emotion flood into himself. Nadia. His honorary sister. What if he should die? He hardened his thoughts. He would not die. Cowards die many times before their deaths, the valiant taste of death but once. William Shakespeare's words had never held so much meaning. He was no coward. Death held no fear for him. If he would die, he would die with honour, and Nadia would be proud of him.

He released her, and looked at her. She had tears in her lovely eyes. He felt a rush of affection towards her.

"Look at me, Nadia." Nadia looked up straight into his eyes. The intensity of her gaze struck him.

"Promise me." Said Nadia. "Promise me you'll come back." A single, solitary tear traced its lonely path down her fair cheek.

Hadrian looked at her, committing her face to memory. He knew not when he would see her again, but if never, then he would die with her name on his lips. "You know I can't promise that, Nadia. I am the best, in all fairness, remember. If they get me, they'd have earned the right to kill me. OK?"

"That makes no difference. You'll still be dead."

Hadrian smiled sadly. "True. But worry not about what is to come. Don't think about me, Nadia. Concentrate on spending your inheritance. I'll be fine."

She nodded, and sniffed, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"You're crying." Remarked Hadrian, fully expecting a sarcastic reply.

"Yes." Whispered Nadia. "You're my only family Hadrian. It's hard to reconcile myself with the fact that I might never see you again."

**

* * *

**

It was twilight when Hadrian sighted Malfoy Manor again. Stopping his Merc, he got out, locking the car. He took out his kit and took out his tools. Pushing his feelings back, he took out a ward-o-meter from the case and held it out in one hand. His robes were black, and his boots made no sound. A few minutes, and he would be invisible.

He began walking towards the manor, concentrating on nothing else but the results his ward-o-meter gave him. The manor had been warded many times over in the last ten centuries. Countless penalties awaited those who attempted to take down the wards. However, the control ward to which they would have been tied would be an antique. He'd worked in Machchu Pichchu, and knew how these wards were made. If he could gain access to it, the rest would be a piece of cake.

He looked back at the Merc, not knowing whether he'd see it again. It had been a present from his master when he'd completed his training. A gift. So was this soldier's kit which he was using. He'd resolved never to use it except as a last resort and if his enemies left him with no other option. Obviously Nadia was worried.

Hadrian pushed thoughts of Nadia from his mind. She would be weeping if he did not get back to her. He concentrated on the ward-o-meter.

The sun was setting over Malfoy Manor, giving it an ethereal look. The stone sparkled and shone, highlighting the fact that the architects had been the best at that time. The trees in the grounds were arranged artistically, and Lucien II of the Malfoy family had bragged that the same man who designed the gardens at Versailles had designed their gardens as well. The claim could very well be true, for at dusk, the gardens looked surreal.

Hadrian however did not appreciate it. His attention was focused solely on the ward-o-meter and the ground in front of him. His magical senses were spread out in front of him, detecting anomalies in the fields in front of him. His mind was extended in every direction and was searching for men, women, children and magical creatures. He was not close enough to the manor in order to be able to sense things inside the wards. However, the tendrils of magic sweeping for hostilities emanating from the manor could be felt a mile off by any capable fighter.

Hadrian stopped short a hundred metres of the Manor. Any further and the wards would detect him as an intruder. Hmm. These wards would be hard to break, or so the ward-o-meter indicated. They would be hard to circumvent as well. There was no doubt in that. However, fooling them was possible. These wards were old, and some modern things would obviously be able to flummox them. But how, was the question.

Hadrian squatted down in a bush and considered his options. The most vulnerable point in the wards was the front gate. His car had been allowed in there so…

The answer came to him in a flash, and it was so obvious that he could hit himself with a blunt instrument for not thinking of it sooner. He had obviously been allowed in the wards to make his delivery. Malfoy believed him to be dead, so his permission would not have been revoked. It would be a waste of time to program the wards to not allow in a dead man. Hadrian smiled viciously. Sometimes, death was a blessing in disguise.

He strode forward, trusting the demiguise hair woven in his clothes to hide him from any prying eyes. The fact that a lot of unkempt foliage surrounded the Malfoy estate also helped. He reached the edge of the wards without incident. Taking a ritual knife out from his kit, he cut his left little finger and squeezed out two drops of blood into a small thimble. He took his wand and cast a small spell at it. It would be able to fool most magical constructs into believing that the blood was still part of his body. With bated breath, he tossed the thimble into the wards.

Nothing happened. He waited for two seconds, then four. The four seconds crept towards sixty, and Hadrian heaved a sigh of relief. If anything bad were to happen to his blood, it would turn blue or purple. For that matter, if any spell would have targeted him, he would have been able to see a change in the colour of the blood based on the type of spell used. So far, so good.

He stepped into the perimeter of the wards. Immediately, he could feel tens of people steadying the wards. Draco had company, and not the sort anyone welcomed. Death Eaters were present in force in the Manor. And judging by what his senses were telling him, there were many inner circle members there. He could feel the distinctive signature of his erstwhile employer Lucius Malfoy, he could feel Bellatrix Lestrange, Evan Rosier, and a host of other Death Eaters.

But that was not what had him worried. No. It was another magical signature which worried him. The presence of this man would be bothersome. Not just bothersome, but very troubling. For strong as Hadrian was, he was not strong enough to take on the Dark Lord himself.

Hadrian retreated deep into himself. Any blip detected by the Dark Lord would tip this group of homicidal freaks off to his location. Unwanted attention was suicide in his business. Hadrian swallowed. Suddenly, charging off for vengeance against a senior Death Eater began to look foolhardy. And suicidal. Ginny Weasley was more important to this war than he thought. Important enough that the Dark Lord himself had come to guard over her.

Suddenly, Hadrian felt the hairs on his neck stand up. Hide, his intuition told him. Hadrian promptly lay down on the ground, casting a wordless disillusionment charm on himself. The demiguise hair would be able to amplify it.

He extended his senses towards the wilderness, the direction he had come from. What he felt made his eyes widen, and his mouth smile. It seemed that Albus Dumbledore was also more concerned about this girl than Hadrian had thought. Perfect. The cavalry had arrived. Just in time.

**

* * *

**

James Potter took out his auror clothes and put them on. Next to him, Sirius Black donned the same type of clothes. Coloured in such a way so as to offer maximum camouflage, the dress had been designed by Dumbledore himself. Every man was expected to enchant his clothes himself, and every man did so. It was a testament to the skills wielded by the Order that no external help had been sought for this particular chore by anyone. James smirked to himself. It said a lot about his men, he had no idea about the rest of the Order.

They were in the wing of the house which had been donated to the Order for its fight against dark forces. The locker rooms were places where people dressed in silence and contemplated whether they would return home to their loved ones or not. James was not routinely asked out on missions, as Dumbledore did not want the boy-who-lived to suffer any kind of violent stress before his inevitable conflict with Lord Voldemort. However, this was no routine mission. Dumbledore would personally be taking charge of this mission, and James could tell that Ginny meant a lot to the old wizard. Hell, anyone with a grey cell could.

James looked at Sirius as he put on his combat boots. Sirius was his usual combat partner. He would be in this mission as well. Half an inch taller than James, Sirius was still the handsome, shaggy-haired devil who'd leave a wake of swooning girls behind him. His toned physique and sexy stubble was still present, though he did not actively try getting girls any more. He'd settled down with Monica Smith, and they had two children, both very young. James had never imagined Sirius Black, of all people to settle down. Sirius, with his suave manner and devilish smile was the rakish pirate every girl was attracted to.

However, that trademark smile was not there on his mouth. A look of grim determination was present on his normally merry face. A hard glint in his eyes reminded everyone that Sirius was the head of the wealthy and powerful Black family. At this moment, Sirius looked every bit a dark wizard who'd love getting revenge on someone who'd ripped everything from him. Just like the rest of his family.

James finished lacing up his boots and looked around. There were fifty teams in the room, i.e. a hundred people. The city closest to Malfoy Manor, New Atlantis, would have an additional fifty people for them. A hundred and fifty people attacking any place would be enough. Dumbledore was making portkeys for all the people. As soon as they would reach the Manor, everyone would push their magic against the wards and try to break through them. A hundred and fifty would be quite enough to be able to do that. Especially with Dumbledore helping.

James's eyes stopped on Snape. The Order's little incompetent man who'd been allowed to spy on the Death Eaters because Dumbledore deemed him the best man for the job. James rarely criticised Dumbledore's decisions, after all, the man's tactics had led them to victory in the Second World War. However, he felt he was justified in thinking Dumbledore had made a mistake in appointing Snape as their spy. James shrugged, drawing a questioning glance from Sirius. He shook his head, and Sirius resumed tying up his boots.

James reached for his rifle. A ZW – 18, better known as the Thunder Phoenix, was his preferred weapon. The Phoenix was the perfect mix of power, accuracy and control James favoured. He did not even see the need to modify it greatly. James smirked as he thought of Snape. A small slip of his finger, and Snape would be a memory. No, wait. Snape would not even be a memory. After all, who'd want to remember him?

Apparently Sirius was of a similar opinion, for he came up next to James and said in a low voice, "I think I'll shoot dear old Snivellus in the back when no one's looking."

James face stretched into a wide grin at that. "Aye. I think I'll put in a spell or two as well. The slimy git sure deserves it."

Sirius smirked back as they both thought of ways to get back at Snape for their enmity back at school. Snape looked up at their smirking faces and scowled back. They knew that he understood the thoughts running in their minds at that moment and was thinking of ways to repay them in kind. Riling up Snape was a favourite pastime of theirs.

James's musings were interrupted by the arrival of Albus Dumbledore to the scene. The ancient man carried portkeys in his hands. His eyes neither twinkled, nor did they show any merriment. James swallowed, and he was aware of all his colleagues doing the same. Albus Dumbledore in a serious mood meant bloody business, and it was a look all of them had learned to dread. The last time it had been ever seen by James was when Mundungus Fletcher botched up a job. Hell hath no fury like Dumbledore scorned. Indeed...

The portkeys were distributed silently. The order was going to battle, and every man knew his duty, and every woman knew hers. A fighting force. That's what this part of the order was.

Dumbledore nodded his head once, and James felt the trademark jerk behind his navel. A spinning sensation overtook him, kind of like being sucked into a whirlpool, or maybe a vortex. In school, Flitwick had told the class about wormholes and space-time distortion which was used to create a portkey. The lecture invariably danced around his head five times in the seven point two seconds it took them to drop a kilometre away from Malfoy Manor.

James whipped his head up to look at it. The Manor itself was beautiful. Not that James would ever admit it, mind. When the light caught the turrets and twiddly bits of the structure, it would seem to twinkle and sparkle. It made James a bit jealous. His house had been made from a Norman castle. Granted, it was older than the present Malfoy Manor, but the regal bearing this house had was unparalleled.

Sirius's voice cut in unexpectedly through his helmet microphone. "Fasten your seatbelts! This one's gonna be wild!" James could only grin in response.

"No games, Sirius." Cut in Dumbledore's voice, unexpectedly curt. "Maintain radio silence except between team members. General order channels are to be used only in emergencies. Now, all teams are to move towards the co-ordinates being forwarded to them, then we'll sound in one by one."

James and Sirius scrambled to obey. The co-ordinates flashed on their helmet HUDs. All around them, they could see witches and wizards moving silently and stealthily towards their assigned co-ordinates. Kingsley Shacklebolt with Nymphadora Tonks. Alastor Moody with Henry Proudfoot. Septimus Dillon with Cartius Savage. The teams seemed to fade out of existence as they moved. Soon, James and Sirius were alone, in front of a section of wall.

James sat down. Sirius looked at him sympathetically. Training with Mad-eye the whole day, and now this. No wonder James felt tired. The revitalising potion had helped, but what James needed was a good night's sleep. Oh well, he wouldn't get it. James looked back at Sirius, whose eyes had now closed and a look of deep concentration was on his face. He was searching for possible hostilities with his mind. James and Sirius made a great team, as they knew each other very well and could anticipate each other's moves very easily. However, both of them had very little skill in the mind arts. Sirius was better than James, but not by much. At least in the mind arts. None of them were aware of a 16 year old watching them with narrowed eyes.

**

* * *

**

Hadrian watched the cavalry get into position. He could not sense them, as it would lead to giving up his position. However, neither could they sense him.

He focused on the men in front of him. The great James Potter and Sirius Black. One the father, and the other the favourite uncle of the boy-who-lived. Both were fearsome fighters, at least by reputation. Hadrian had never fought them, and neither did he want to. As far as he was concerned, the further they were from him, the better.

The tall grass tickled him, but Hadrian made no sound. His focus never deviated, and his breathing never changed, remaining the deep, even breathing his mentor had favoured. He waited, and so did the Order team in front of him.

Suddenly, both men jumped up and levelled their wands at an imaginary point in front of them. Hadrian braced himself.

It began slowly. The air began vibrating gently around them. Hadrian could feel it in his ears. A silent charm later and his ears were protected from the disturbances. He needed them in order to prevail today. The vibrations increased in both frequency and magnitude. Even with the charm on, Hadrian had to grit his teeth. Then his teeth began to rattle. Hell, the very earth was rattling! The walls of the manor, just a few feet from them were shaking as the might of the order members collided against the strength of the Death Eaters. There were no flashy lights and bangs, but the very atmosphere seemed to be saturated with powerful magic.

Hadrian released the barriers around his mind and extended his consciousness towards the Death Eaters. They were all engrossed in the upkeep of the wards. The Dark Lord likewise. He looked at the men in front of him. They too were lost in the sea of magic in front of them. It was his perfect chance. He slowly got up, and stealthily moved towards the walls. They were nothing special. The walls were built to demarcate the extent of the property, nothing else. A simple conjuring spell later, a pair of ropes appeared. Hadrian scaled the wall in seconds and jumped down on the other side. A tree, quite conveniently, was blocking him from the line of sight of the Death Eaters. He climbed it and looked down. The Death Eaters were in a formation known from ancient times as the 'Bane of Romulus'. Ingenious. If Hadrian understood the logic Dumbledore was employing, then this was the perfect strategy to counter him. But in all fairness, the old man's strategy was the only once which had even the slightest chance of succeeding. That is why the Dark Lord had chosen this Manor for holding the Weasley girl. It was an easily defensible location.

Hadrian held his Desert Eagles Max Payne style. He was lethal with them. They had a better range of spells than Berettas, and even though their power was not comparable to a good assault rifle, it was enough to blow a fist sized hole through a Death Eater's chest.

The Desert Fox concentrated on the saturation of magic around him. Just a little while longer... Yes! The wards were down!

He got into a ready stance. In front of him Death Eaters were stepping into three man teams. He nodded in approval. The tactic was a stupid one. Dumbledore always used two-man teams, it was a well-known fact. Three man teams would-

That chain of thought abruptly stopped as he saw the march of the Order of the Phoenix upon the Death Eaters. Silent and professional. A regular army. And suddenly the formation of the Death Eaters started changing. The Desert Fox's eyes grew wide as he saw the movement in front of him. The Bane of Romulus? No, no indeed. This was something new. He'd never seen it before.

A blast in front of his tree snapped him out of his daze. He canceled the disillusionment charm on his person and headed out into the battle, his shield just a thought away.

The fighting went fierce. There were no duels, no. That was old fashioned. There was no cover either, so both Order members and Death Eaters were doing fancy conjuring work. One of them was handling the conjuring of barriers and shielding, while the other was firing spells with all his might. Most of the combatants had assault rifles, so there was variety in the colour of the spells being used by the combatants. Some fighters even had machine guns. These guns were capable of churning out a single spell at a rate of 1200 times a minute. Not very powerful, but 1200 spells a minute need not mean 1200 powerful spells per minute. Even simple stunners would be enough.

A spell crashed in front of him. Hadrian looked at the direction it came from. And he grinned. A Death Eater wanted a fight! He aimed his guns at the Death Eater and fired twice. The first one was a piercing curse and the second one a slashing hex. The Death Eater's shield absorbed the piercing curses and a slashing hex, but the second one got him. A piercing curse later the Death Eater was down, probably never to get up again.

Hadrian wasted no time gloating and celebrating. He resumed his run towards the door of the manor, getting involved in several fights along the way. Many of them were against Death Eaters, but he was forced to attack the Order just as often. In one notable fight, he had to assist Amycus Carrow against two order members before incapacitating her himself.

Clawing and fighting through the crowd, he finally reached the imposing doorway of the manor, which... was destroyed. Hadrian sighed. There was no rest for him. He ran in, his mind alert. There was nothing inside. The hallway was deserted. His mind detected naught but air. No house elves in this room. They were cowering in the kitchens. Their life force could be felt a mile away.

But his intuition was telling him that something was wrong...

**

* * *

**

James stopped for a breather. His latest opponents were nothing but a pile of slop now, and his immediate surroundings were Death Eater free. However, he and Sirius had gotten separated. A number flashed across his HUD. Sirius's co-ordinates. That was all he needed to know. James took a deep breath before plunging into the thick of the fighting. Spells rained down at him from all sides, the screams of the decapitated and the howls of the injured combined with the victory yells of the winners and echoed around the battlefield. The multicoloured display of deadly spells combined with human body parts flying about gave the place the appearance of a laser show by a deranged man.

He ran with caution, his magical senses showing him the way of least resistance. He dodged a howling Diggle, a roaring Shacklebolt and a grinning Moody on his way to Sirius. A few well placed shots from his Phoenix earned him accolades from his mates. James did not pause, as his easy, loping strides carried him closer and closer to where Sirius was located.

The manor itself loomed large in front of him. The doorway was broken, the once-magnificent doors barely hanging on to their hinges. The runes inscribed on them had been obliterated as the men fuelling them lost their life forces and spells landed on them. He entered the hallway to find nothing but a small animal on the ground. A rodent? James was on his guard immediately. There were no rodents in such a place. A fox?

The animal in question turned tail and ran. James aimed his gun at it but the creature had already vanished in the darkness. James walked slowly and deliberately in the same direction as the animal. This was a Death Eater trap. His gun was ready and his shielder was at full power. A bubble shield was all he could –

James jumped sideways and rolled into a crouching position as a spell crashed to his left. He fired a shot at the Death Eater. The offending Death Eater's shielder came into play as James fired of another curse. The Death Eater dodged while firing off another curse and ducking into a corner.

James reached into his belt and withdrew a grenade. It was simply a small cube-shaped device which had the potential to act as a focus for the bombarda hex. He tossed it and it exploded, destroying the wall. James grinned. The Death Eater would be eating with Death right now, all right.

A curse came out of nowhere as a figure seemed to shimmer in front of him. Or maybe not. James snarled as he fired off curses as fast as his weapon would allow. It was his primary strategy. Keep your opponents on the defensive. The death eater was good, though. He was dodging or blocking each one of James's spells. If he would not have been a Death Eater, James would have been impressed. As it were, he simply became pissed.

However, the constant dodging and shielding was not without effect. The Death Eater was forced to drop his disillusionment charm as he dodged. As soon as that happened, the Death Eater began firing off his own salvos forcing James to dodge. Red, orange, purple, green, blue... James soon lost count of the number of spells he had dodged or fired as he began sweating heavily. The air around them was becoming saturated with magic. James was only dimly aware that he had been moving throughout this whole affair and had ended up in a room quite different from which he had entered.

A spell travelled between them. The figure in front of him flinched. James seized the opportunity. A curse later the man was down. James was now able to look around and assess his surroundings. He was in a small room, the middle of which had a chair in which someone was sitting. James dismissed that person. He was bound to the chair. He was no threat. It was the people around him who were a greater threat. James immediately dropped his assault rifle and took out two Wolfowitz pistols and trained them on his two opponents just as they trained their pistols on each other and James.

It was a classic situation. The three of them were standing on the vertices of an equilateral triangle, their backs to the wall of the circular room. Their pistols were trained on each other, and their shielders were projecting partial shields (i.e. which did not cover the whole body). Their previous opponents were all lying at their feet. James's eyes flicked downward briefly. His opponent had been Lucius Malfoy. That meant that in front of him was his son Draco Malfoy. The unconscious and bleeding form of Nymphadora Tonks at his feet told James that Draco was not anyone to be trifled with.

The third man was a mystery. However, the prone forms of Sirius Black and Narcissa Malfoy at his feet told both Draco and James that he was a somebody. A somebody with his own agenda. A powerful someone with his own agenda. James's mind quickly connected the dots. The Desert Fox. James swallowed even as adrenaline surged through his system. He was caught between a powerful Death Eater and a homicidal maniac criminal. And the worst part was that he was all alone. He had no partner. His grip on his pistols tightened.

And quite suddenly, almost as if in agreement, the three of them fired simultaneously, and then ducked. James snapped off a couple of shots before ducking, controlling his 2 by 2 shield partition with his mind. He got up and began firing again. Spells were striking the walls and the ceiling, causing portions of it to begin breaking. A disembowelling curse was stopped by his armour, a cutting curse by his shield as he rolled to avoid a heart-stopper and fired off a bone crusher. He could barely see what was happening two feet ahead of him as he kept moving and zigzagging through the room, magical senses guiding him. He could sense that the figure in the middle was protected by some kind of shield being fuelled by a presence not inside the room.

A curse came out of nowhere. James's thoughts jumped and his shield absorbed it. He fired off a spell with his pistol in that direction. A cry told James that his bludgeoning spell had connected. He grinned and began moving towards that spot. As soon as he reached there, James knew that he'd been deceived. There was no body on the floor. Instead, a hail of spells descended upon him as his attacker took advantage of his sorry state.

James's shielder responded to his thoughts as he dove to a side to avoid a particularly nasty cutter. Outwardly he was calm and collected. His thoughts, though, berated him for falling for such an obvious ploy.

An overpowered disembowelling curse destroyed his shield. James felt true fear now. A cold feeling at the bottom of his gut telling him that he would not return to his Lily, and that he would never see his Ethan again. The cold fear that told him that the next time he would hear Sirius laugh it would be when the two would finally be reunited in heaven. It told him that his time on this earth was coming to an end. He closed his eyes.

Then a yell interrupted his resignation. He looked up to see his two opponents battling against each other, believing him to be dying. What extraordinarily good luck! James smirked, reaching into his belt. He withdrew another grenade. He threw it up, intending to blow it up just above their heads. However, in his prone form, he was not able to calculate the distance properly. The grenade, instead of going right above their heads, went far over them, and began dipping. James cursed, as the two opponents became aware of the state of his health. But they had no time to react. The grenade had, by some extraordinarily bad luck, hit the shield protecting the fourth person in the room. The magic of the grenade and that of the shield did not appreciate being together and the grenade exploded a split second before the shield fell.

**

* * *

**

The explosion was all he saw. It was the mother of all explosions. A huge grenade capable of concentrating the bombarda hex going off in a closed room. Hadrian was lucky that his master had carved so many runes on his armour. He got off lucky.

Both James and Draco, however were not as fortunate. Both of them slammed face first into the wall. Hadrian fell down where he stood. The bombarda hex was special in the sense that it released no heat. It just destroyed stuff.

A tremor seemed to rock the building. Hadrian paled. He had felt such tremors before. They usually happened when a building was about to fall. He looked around for a means of escape. Finding none, he took out his wand. It was time to improvise. He looked around the room, trying to find a suitable place to blast out from. As he did so, his eyes fell on the captive. Ginny Weasley. He had known who she was when he'd begun fighting the Black siblings. He hesitated. Should he, or should he not? His immediate priority was to get himself out, not revenge.

But another voice seemed to be arguing in favour of revenge. _Why not? Are we weak?_

No, no that wasn't it. It was just unnecessary.

_Well, so was coming here to get revenge in the first place._

True...

His decision made, Hadrian blasted his way out. The hole led to a small corridor opening out into a window. Perfect. He seized the sleeping girl by the waist and ran towards the other end, jumping out of it. This area was populated only by a bunch of dead and unconscious people. He ran towards the garage.

The garage itself was quite damaged, but he hoped that the cars inside would still be workable. He ran inside, blasting the doors open. There were three cars in front of him. The Audi was quite damaged, while the Murcielago was in a slightly better condition. But the Alfa Romeo was completely undamaged. He adjusted his grip on Ginny as he went towards the keys. He looked through them until he found that of the Alfa Romeo. Hadrian grinned. One Alfa Romeo, heavily modified. Coming up!

He opened the car and dumped her in the back seat, getting into the driver's seat. The interiors were plush. The seats were damn comfortable. But most importantly, there was a weapons console. Hadrian's grin threatened to split his face. This was Lucius Malfoy's personal car!

He started it, getting the hang of the controls. The car was responsive, and had been very well maintained. Time to scratch the paint, or so to speak.

Let's just say that the fighters were too busy with themselves and the collapsing manor to notice an Alfa Romeo blasting out through the walls at the speed of 250 km/h.

Hadrian popped his knuckles as they sped out of the place. He had the girl, he had a car, and he was on the run. Perfect. The best revenge on both Malfoy, and his own father, James Potter. He fingered a rune on his armour with his blood covered index finger. Distantly, he heard a Merc explode into unrecognizable fragments.

The Alfa Romeo sped off into the night.

* * *

**A/N:** He heard the car blow up, that doesn't mean that he's forgotten his case. Its small enough that an explosion of the same would not be heard very far. This story's gonna take a weird turn now, I guess (I'm not exactly very sure myself). It will cover the next three months, i.e. the time before the new term begins and a few days into September.

The grenades are magical and can be modified to hold a few kinds of spells. Bombarda is one, and reducto is another. They're primarily designed to hold destructive blasting spells. However, there is a limit to the power the metal can channel. One cannot pack the equivalent of a bomb which can destroy buildings in a portable 1" x 1" x 1" cube. There are wizarding sappers as well. However, their equipment is seen as helluva bulky and not worth the trouble of carrying around in the kind of war being fought right now.


	6. The Journey Begins

**A/N : **Here I come again! Another chapter for my dear readers, and a chapter I liked writing. It might seem to be a filler (and maybe it is one) but read it and enjoy! Again, as is usual, I will thank my reviewers and readers (in that order) for doing what they do. All those who like this story, thanks. Amateur authors like me need all the (false?) praise we can get. And now, dear sirs and madams, I'll stop my ramblings and present the latest installment of _Bounty Hunter._

**Disclaimer : **I do not own Harry Potter. That's J K Rowling and Warner Bros. And yeah, I'm making no money off it either.

_

* * *

_**The Journey Begins**

Ginny Weasley seemed to be flying. How ironic, thought the conscious part of her brain, that I'm having this same dream twice now. Her subconscious, however, turned a deaf ear to it.

This time, though, the dream was different. There were subtle changes. She was not flying effortlessly. There seemed to be deadweight tied to her stomach dragging her down, and she was fighting it with all the willpower she could muster. The clouds around her were not the white fluffy kind, but an ominous reddish-orange. Below her, she could dimly make out the fires of hell which burned fiercely, and the agonised screams of the damned drifted up to her, bone-chilling in their pain and despair. Something seemed to be closing in behind her. Something inevitable. Panic blossomed inside her stomach. How could she do this? She was not strong enough, not strong en–

She woke up, covered in sweat and entangled in her sheets, breathing heavily. The panic in her stomach had not dissipated, and she tried to control it. _Breathe in, and then out. In, and out. In. And then out. _Her racing pulse began to slow, and the panic in her stomach began to recede. _Everything's going to be all right, Ginny. Don't worry. There is nothing that can harm you now. You're not flying over the fires of hell. No you are in a safe..._

Ginny's thought process immediately screeched to a halt. Her hands began to tremble and shake, as she thought of the events of the past few days. If anyone would have seen her face at that moment, they would have thought that she was about to die a painful death.

It was all mostly a blur to her. Her kidnapping, Lucius (or was that Draco?) Malfoy, a pair of handcuffs, a handsome man chanting something and waving a wand. The memories seemed to blur into a continuous stream. However, the undercurrent of fear ran strong in them. She had been helpless. There had been a battle waged in the place she had been held captive. Ginny's heartbeat started climbing up. She could not remember the details, she had been drugged or something during the ordeal, but she could remember something. Three people holding guns pointed at each other, James Potter snarling out a curse, a graceful blonde fighting a dark haired combatant, who was equally elegant...

_Where am I? What happened? Who got me? Calm down, Weasley. Hyperventilating won't help._

She closed her eyes and started deep-breathing again, concentrating on her heartbeat. Her body did not want to obey this particular command, but her will was strong. Slowly, her heartbeat calmed, her breathing evened out, and her reason began to return. Colour returned to her cheeks, where panic had sucked all her blood out. She remained this way for a while, as the terror in her body made way for calm.

She opened her eyes and gauged her surroundings. Being a Weasley, and one of the prime targets of Lord Voldemort, Dumbledore had asked Mad-eye Moody to teach them very basic self-defence. One of the first lessons Moody had drilled into them was _Constant Vigilance_. It was coming in very handy to her now, as she assessed the room she was in.

The room was a small one with white walls. She was lying on a bed which had yellow sheets. In a detached sort of way, she noted that the particular shade of yellow clashed with the colour of the walls. There was a small bedside table with a lamp on it, which she promptly lit. There was a door, which was not locked.

Ginny got up stealthily, looking around for any danger. The room seemed safe enough. The door seemed harmless enough. She crept out of it quietly, absent-mindedly noting that the clothes she was wearing were the very same clothes she had been kidnapped in. She emerged in a small, narrow, brightly-lit corridor.

Ginny Weasley looked right, and then she looked left. No one. _Where am I? _It did not seem like the house of a Death Eater. It was too brightly lit, for one. She turned left and moved along the walls, trying to blend into the shadows. Her heart beat was still faster than normal, and her breath came out in short gasps.

She came across a door. She tried the latch. Locked. She went on. Another one. Still locked. _C'mon Ginny. Third time's a charm. _She held her breath and tried the door. It opened soundlessly for her.

Ginny peered in. The room was square-shaped with a wall of windows. The other walls were all painted yellow. The floor was wooden and somehow seemed to give the room a spiritual air. Unseen power thrummed in the air and the hair on the back of Ginny's neck stood up. There was no furniture in the room at all. The walls were bereft of paintings or other decorations. From the ceiling hung a single chandelier which, for the moment, gave no light. The morning was bright enough to not warrant it.

Ginny however, noticed next to nothing about the room except for the vague sense of tranquillity which seemed to pervade its very atmosphere. Her attention was riveted on the figure sitting cross-legged at the centre of the room, his profile to her. He was breathing quite calmly, chest rising and falling at regular intervals. His features were sharp. Dark hair obscured some part of his face. Ginny was dimly aware that the peaceful vibes she was getting were emanating from him. She stared at him, trying to recall where she'd him seen before. He seemed vaguely familiar. Did he not look like-

"BOO!" Someone shouted into her ear.

Ginny screamed before falling forward. Instinct took over and she rolled to her back, prepared to lash out at whoever did that.

A short, fat man was standing in front of her, laughing his head off. He was dressed in dirty coveralls and holding a spanner in one hand. His face, hands and every part of his exposed skin seemed to be covered in grease and muck.

Ginny's foot moved before her mind did. She kicked out at him.

The man easily caught it with her free hand and continued laughing. Ginny kicked him with her other foot. He dropped the spanner to the ground and his hand closed over the other foot. Then Ginny did the only thing she could. She screamed.

"Stop!" Came a voice. "Both of you, just shut up!"

Ginny stopped screaming and turned to look at the source of the voice. It was the young man she'd seen meditating on the floor. He had his arms crossed across his chest and was glaring at the man who was holding her legs. She turned to look at the man. He looked contrite.

"Sorry, Hadrian." Said the short man. "I couldn't help myself."

The man known as Hadrian jabbed a finger towards the short man irritably. "_You_ should know better, Shug. You know I hate any interruption in my meditations. And I told you to tell me when she wakes up."

"Hey!" replied Shug. "What is this, if not an alarm, eh?" At Hadrian's glare he seemed to mellow down considerably. "All right, all right." He turned his face to look down at her. "Sorry."

"It's OK." Replied Ginny, bewildered. What kind of kidnappers were these? She knew that this was no order safe house, else her mother or father would be here.

Hadrian moved towards her and held out a hand. Ginny accepted it and stood up. She looked at the two of them, worry forming on her face. If they wanted to hurt her...

"Better get moving, else _she _might say something." Said Shug, shuddering.

"Yeah, yeah. You're just scared, Shug. Admit it." Smirked Hadrian. Somehow, though, Ginny could tell that he was faking it. Just an inner sense or something.

"Oh yeah?" came the soft reply.

"Yeah"

"Well buddy, let me remind you that I was not the one who got dumped into a swimming pool of cold, salty water when I was late for my exercise regimen."

Hadrian's smirk faltered. "Well... It was just a one-time thing!"

Shug snorted and began walking off, his fat body mass jiggling.

"No, seriously!" said Hadrian, running to catch up.

Ginny, meanwhile, speculated as to what was happening. There was a girl in charge of her kidnapping whom these guys seemed to fear immensely. This girl, who could she be?

The first name which came to mind was that of Bellatrix Lestrange. Supposedly the Dark lord's right hand woman, Bellatrix certainly had resources enough to pull this off. Or maybe Narcissa Malfoy. But no, that didn't make sense. Why go to all the trouble of breaking her out from Malfoy Manor in the first place? It didn't make sense. And of all people, why her? Being the girlfr-

A small pop sounded and the men in front of Ginny stiffened. Somebody muttered, "Oh fuck..."

Ginny craned her neck to look beyond Shug, and gasped.

Standing in front of her was a beautiful creature. It was... beautiful. Ginny simply did not have any other words in her vocabulary to do the creature justice. It had human proportions, but was simply not human. Its alien nature could be detected even by untrained eyes. It was short, close to four feet. It had a circular, cherubic face with a cute nose. Its ears were big and pointed, and it had slanted eyes which were narrowed at the two delinquents in front of her.

"And why," Said the creature dangerously, "have you two not yet reported to breakfast?"

Hadrian gave a tremble in front of her. "We're sorry! It was nothing Dorothy. I got lost in my meditations..." He trailed off upon seeing the look in her eyes.

Dorothy gave him a regally angry look. "Escort the lady to breakfast. I've taken care to prepare everything one can have at breakfast today."

Shug gave a moan of pleasure. Dorothy gave him a frosty glare. Shug immediately wilted, murmuring apologies. Dorothy looked away imperiously and popped away.

"Come on." Muttered Hadrian as he beckoned.

A house elf. A _freaking house elf_.Her kidnappers were being bullied by a house elf. And not just any house elf, but some weird kind of house elf. One which had a flawless French accent to boot. Ginny shook her head. She might even remember to be afraid if this experience was not so freakishly outlandish.

They stepped into the kitchen and sat down at the table, which was loaded with food. Ginny rubbed her eyes and pinched herself to make sure that she was not dreaming. _Everything? _When Dorothy said everything, she _meant_ everything. The table was piled up with a full continental breakfast. Ron would have found it excessive.

Her captors were loading food onto their plates. Suddenly starving, Ginny did the same. She dug into the food with relish, eating as if she'd been deprived of food for a lifetime.

For a while, there was no conversation, no threats, no Dorothy. Basic, primal instinct ruled everyone's heads as they savoured Dorothy's cooking. Ginny had to hand it to the strange elf. Whoever had taught her to cook had done one hell of a grand job.

Ginny sighed with relish once her tummy was sated. She looked at Hadrian and Shug, both of them contemplating something, their plates empty. Ginny took an earnest look at them.

Shug first. Shug looked like an enormous boiled potato. No, seriously. That was the only way to describe him. The impression she got was that of a man who'd never done any physical work in his entire life and had entered every eating competition known to mankind. He looked to be in his late thirties or maybe early forties, though the fat made it difficult to get an estimate. His hair, or whatever was left of it seemed to be in the final stages of decomposition. He looked harmless. He was, unfortunately, _not _harmless, as Ginny had found out to her detriment. Appearances could be deceptive. Ginny mulled over her observations. Would she be able to defeat him? Probably not, especially not without her wand. With it, however, she had a chance of defeating him and getting out. He'd been hospitable to her, but he had still kidnapped her. If she could hit him with payback, she would.

But then what? She turned to Hadrian. There was no way she could go against him. Raw, ferocious, barely contained power seemed to be etched into the sleek lines of his lean muscles. He had the build of a runner and the air around him seemed alive, somehow. Almost as if he could animate it by sheer force of will. His green eyes seemed familiar, and Ginny struggled to place them. She could almost see them pulsing with power, fury colouring them to as fever pitch, power struggling to unleash itself from them narrowed while strategising, cunning as a fox-

A fox. A desert fox. Ginny's eyes unfocused as panic rushed through her. The Desert Fox. Was he one of them?

Ginny looked at the two of them carefully, her body tensed up. But she couldn't make any connections. She had neither seen neither hide nor hair of him, nor had she heard his real voice. She had only one way of knowing who the Desert Fox was, and that was if the man volunteered the information himself.

Almost as if he'd heard what she was thinking, Hadrian spoke. "Penny for your thoughts, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny started. She knew that she had to play it very safe. They were dangerous men, and she was totally at their mercy.

"Why did you kidnap me?" asked Ginny, her heart hammering.

Hadrian's profile tilted ten degrees and he turned his face towards her. "My reasons are my own."

Ginny shuddered. She knew now. "So you are the Desert Fox."

Shug turned towards him. "You still using that stupid name?"

Hadrian ignored him. "Yes. I am the Desert Fox."

He said it with cool detachment, almost as if he was discussing nothing more pressing than the weather. Ginny stared at him with wide eyes, fear and revulsion battling for dominance inside her.

A pop sounded, and Dorothy appeared. She opened her mouth to say something before snapping it shut, her expression uncertain as she surveyed the scene in front of her. Hadrian held up a hand, still looking towards Ginny and gestured for her to be gone. She obeyed without question.

Ginny met Hadrian's eyes. "How can you say it so calmly!" she spat out. "Almost as if kidnapping's usual for you. But then again, it might just be! You bloody fucking criminal types!"

He was not even ruffled. The other guy, Shug, seemed indignant. "Look lady," he began. "I'm not a part of this. This is just my house. I didn't kidnap you!"

"Do I look like I care? You have a part in this, don't you?"

Shug never got a chance to answer. Hadrian held up his hand and the fat man subsided. He looked at Ginny, his face devoid of all emotion. "Do not blame anyone here for your condition. You have no idea about the sequence of events which led you to this place."

"Whatever they are, your _motives _are certainly not pure! I'm in a house alone with two guys I've never met!"

"Think, Ginny." Responded Hadrian, impatience showing itself in his voice. "You think Dumbledore's motives were pure?"

Ginny stared at him. And then she laughed. She howled with laughter until tears ran down her cheeks, and even then her giggles did not subside. "Nice way to change the topic. Real nice. And I'll play along. You think that Dumbledore's not clean, do you? That he's guilty of doing something bad?"

Hadrian's stony face answered her. Her giggles stopped. "You're serious?" said Ginny incredulously. "You're serious. Oh my god, I can't believe it. You think Dumbledore's doing something bad." She shook her head and stood up.

"And why," began Hadrian, now sounding curious, "is my thinking so obviously flawed?"

Ginny stared at him for a moment in askance. "Cause he's _Dumbledore_ that's why! Why would Dumbledore do something bad for us?"

"He might not consciously realise it." Piped in Shug.

"Oh please." Scoffed Ginny. "You think so? He's the one who bailed us out in World War two. He's the one who defeated Grindelwald and busted the German bubble. He's the one who founded the Order of the Phoenix. He's the one keeping the Death Eaters from sweeping over Britain."

"You think he's got altruistic motives?" Asked Hadrian. "He's doing it for political power. He's-"

"Puh-leez. I know his motives better than anyone in the world. He saved me from the Chamber of Secrets for crying out loud! He had no motive for saving me then. Why did he do it?"

She looked at triumph at Hadrian and Shug. Hadrian looked back at her, his gaze even and focused. "Tell me Ginny. Why had he protected you so well?"

Ginny let out her breath in a hiss. "He wants to protect me? Isn't it obvious?"

Hadrian let out a bark of laughter. "Maybe to you, but I think otherwise. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. You are either being lied to, or not being told what you should be knowing."

"Shakespeare is not going to fetch you any brownie points with me."

Hadrian held up his palms. "Hear me out. I kidnapped you, and I know the kind of wards protecting you. Your brother put them up, no?" Ginny simply tilted her head up. Hadrian inclined his towards her politely. "Of course he did, how foolish of me. Those wards were not every day run of the mill wards. They had power. A lot of it. They had been keyed to the Garden gnomes in your home. All of this tells me that Dumbledore was trying to keep someone very safe inside."

Ginny folded her arms. "I bet those wards are present in quite a few homes around here."

Hadrian shook his head. "That's where you are wrong." He got up from his chair and stepped towards the windows facing east, where the sun had climbed up some way towards the centre of the sky. "Those kinds of wards are very rare. Had I not been as knowledgeable as I am, you would probably still be in your room doing what you were and I would be sweating it out in the grass, trying to break down the wards.

"To give you an impression of the protection you had been given, imagine the Great Wall of China. And not as it was, but as it should have been had it been fully manned. Airtight. And if a posse of Death Eaters would have tried to really break it down, then I'm betting that an entire Order squadron would have descended on them, guns blazing."

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. "Your point being?"

It was Shug who answered this time. The little-big man got up and waddled towards a small table covered with newspapers, a bagel in his mouth. "What he means to say, Miss, is that it doesn't happen with every order member. If it did, then there would be no Order deaths. You had been given extraordinary protections for someone of your importance."

"Which is to say," added Hadrian, "that you are more important than anyone else thinks."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "I think your logic is flawed, _sirs_." Upon receiving no answers, she continued on. "If that were so, then why is there no Order member descending upon this house as we speak? And why did Lord Voldemort not try to get me?"

Hadrian laughed, and Ginny was reminded of the laugh she had heard while being transported. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she became apprehensive.

"He did, Miss Weasley." Said Hadrian, his voice cold. "I had been hired by the Dark Lord specifically for this purpose. I succeeded, and was rewarded by escaping death by the skin of my teeth. I believed that the payment was not to my taste and decided to take back what I gave him. In the process I wound up destroying Malfoy Manor and causing a major battle between the Order and the Death Eaters."

"So you're going to give me back to Dumbledore now?" asked Ginny hopefully.

"You wish."

Ginny's heart sank. "Please." She whispered. "I'm begging you. Please." Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. "My mother will be frantic and my family will be extremely worried. Please. Do not break apart a family when you don't have to. You must have one. Imagine how they would feel if you were taken away from them."

Something flashed across his face, and for a moment it was transformed. He looked angry. Not just angry, but wrathful. If anyone would have crossed his path in that instant, he would have been French toast, armour or not. And then it was gone. He was expressionless again. Ginny's legs gave out and she sank into a chair. "Please. Please take me back."

Hadrian turned to look at Shug. "Is it done yet?"

Shug nodded, his expression pensive. "It's in the garage. You'll find the keys on the tool shelf."

Hadrian nodded and walked out.

Shug looked at Ginny, a sad look in his eyes. "You shouldn't have said that."

Ginny replied without raising her head. "What? The Dumbledore thing?"

Shug winced before shaking his head. "Nope, the family thing. Whatever chance you had of going back home is gone now."

Ginny stared at him, her eyes rimmed with red. "Why?" she whispered in a broken voice. "Why is he doing this?"

Shug stared back at her for a minute, letting her squirm under his gaze. "That," he said finally, "is something you will need to find out for yourself. It's not my secret to tell. And if," he held up a hand to forestall any interruption, "he tells you, then I'm sure that either you would have converted to his line of thinking, or he to yours. I'm not sure what happened in the Chamber, but I heard that a shade of some sorts possessed you, right?"

Ginny nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The encounter, though distant now, was still quite painful to think about.

"Well," Shug ploughed on, "you do remember the pain, then? Don't answer that, of course you do. Something more painful than that happened to him. And its consequences will remain with him for all eternity."

"What has that got to do with me?" asked Ginny in a whisper, horror-struck. The shade of Tom Riddle Jr. had done a lot of psychological damage to her. She could not even imagine something doing more damage than that.

Shug looked at her, a far-away look in his eyes. "Everything, Ginny. Everything."

Hadrian swept back into the room after a minute of utter silence. "Get up, Miss Weasley. We're leaving."

"Why?" asked Ginny, bewildered.

Hadrian rolled his eyes. "It's harder to pinpoint your location if you're not in the same place for very long."

Ginny folded her arms over her chest. "I'm not going, then."

Hadrian exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Either you come on your own, or I make you."

Ginny swallowed. Hadrian did not look very merciful. She nodded and rose up to follow him out of the room.

He led her to a black car waiting in front of the front door. Ginny's jaw dropped. It was a beauty. An Alfa Romeo. A beautiful Alfa Romeo. A 159.

"Get in." Said Hadrian, as he strode towards the passenger door and held it open for her. Ginny hesitated, and then climbed in. As soon as she saw the dashboard, her eyes went wide.

It was filled with consoles and buttons of all sorts, ranging from a tyre pressure control to a mine dropper button.

Hadrian climbed in, his grin showing only a sliver of his white teeth. "Impressive, isn't it? That's what you get when you give a car to Shug for 12 hours. A whole new weapons console, a fresh coat of paint, and new licence plates."

Ginny flicked her eyes at him. "He doesn't change the upholstery while he's at it?"

"No need with this car." Hadrian grinned widely. "You see, it originally belonged to the Malfoys. I've taken it from them in return for my old R8, which got destroyed in the bomb blast meant to kill me."

Ginny's eyes did not even have time to go even wider before the car shot off like a stone from a sling. Her scream echoed off the distant mountains.

* * *

Shug watched the car speed away with unblinking eyes. He sighed, exhausted. It had been a long night and he wanted to sleep his fatigue off.

There was a small pop as the elf-veela hybrid appeared. Dorothy's story too, was a long one. In a nutshell, Hadrian had rescued her from the same place Nadia was being held. Shug shuddered. It was the only time he'd seen the boy go all out, and it hadn't been pretty. Twenty humans and five vampires guarding the place and he'd torn through them like they weren't even there. He'd killed a high-ranking vampire to reach Nadia and had escaped, bruised, bleeding and in danger of passing out. What he'd left behind him seemed something straight out of World War two right after a pack of rabid werewolves had gone through it. There was a reason people were afraid of the Desert Fox.

Dorothy looked at him with her slightly-luminous eyes and asked him, "Are they gone?"

"Yeah." replied Shug. He turned back and began walking off.

"He likes her." Came her voice.

Shug screeched to a halt. "Whoa whoa whoa! How do you figure that one out?"

Dorothy looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Idly, Shug wondered what it would be like to have a woman like Dorothy before his brain pushed that thought down. _Concentrate, buddy!_

"Right." Said Shug sceptically. "This is your veela intuition speaking, right?"

Dorothy rolled her eyes at him and swept pass him, muttering something suspiciously like "Asshole..."

"Hey!" protested Shug as he ran after her. She might be Hadrian's house elf, but that didn't mean that she had the right to boss him around.

Oh yeah, he had some elf butt to kick.

* * *

The wind howled and screamed as it tried to uproot the house out of its very foundations. Rain lashed against the ancient walls and further soaked the ancient wood. The overgrown weeds around the house bent under the fury of the storm as lightening flashed across the sky. A thunderclap followed on the heels of the light generating enough noise to awaken the dead.

A figure appeared beneath an ancient and worn arch. If any other magically sentient being would have been present, they would have felt the lines of magical energy emanating from the arch and coiling powerfully around the mysterious figure in black. The man began walking forward towards the house. The wind and the rain hit him with all their strength. A lesser man would have staggered but the figure in black forged on, a small grimace on his face as the icy water stung his cheeks. A wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his head protected his face from the bite of the rain. A gloved hand held the hat down.

He struggled on, the forces of nature trying to deny him access to the house. But step by step, the man was winning. He went on, determination tiding him through. His efforts were rewarded as he reached the porch of the house and paused to catch his breath.

The ancient timber groaned and moaned around him, bending slightly to the force of the wind, rather than resisting it all the way. The man's face flickered into a light smile. He'd never learned that lesson himself.

The man crossed himself as he opened the door and stepped inside. He shut the door and began walking forward. The house was not his, but he knew no one who made use of it, and so he did. The house was a house of god, and the magic of faith ran very deep here. The man closed his eyes and let his arcane senses explore the familiar room. Everything was as it should have been, the pews, the thousand candles, his copy of the bible, the crucifix. The man smiled, a smile of faith and humility lighting up the place like no candle could. As soon as he reached the altar, he got down on one knee, his eyes shining with tears, and refusing to meet those of the Saviour.

"My Lord." Said the man, every syllable reverent. For a moment, he was content to let his words remain where they were, a simple statement of fact. The man's faith seemed to whirl around him before settling down on his shoulders. The candles grew brighter and the eyes of the Saviour seemed to shine down at him.

Undoubtedly, the man got an unspoken signal from somewhere to begin speaking again, for he opened his mouth and began to speak to the Lord. He told the Lord everything to have happened to him between the time he came to him last and today, and his pitch changed along with the subject. He told the Lord about his points of pleasure and about his points of pain, he told the Lord about the men and women he saw fall around him in battle, and he confessed to the Lord, as he did every time he came here, about the killing he had done.

"You know it is necessary, my Lord." Said the man. "Our people can bring peace and prosperity to this nation. But most of all, they can make right the wrong which Britain has committed during our history. Our methods are not perfect, my Lord. If this world was meant for people to die in, then I know that the present climate would be to your liking. I like it no more than you do. Trust me when I say that I'm doing all I can to end hostilities. I wish..." He swallowed thickly, allowing his grief to show. "I wish that this was not happening and that all I had to do was mow my lawn everyday and laugh with my wife and kids. I wish that I only had to worry about my job and not about my life."

The Lord comforted him. Ambient magic billowed around him, wrapping the man in a shell of comfort, and drawing fresh tears from his eyes. The Lord might not support him, but He understood the necessity of his actions. That was a comfort beyond all others. To know that the one being you respected was there, watching you and understanding you.

The man looked up, tears streaming down his face. Pro Do Et Patria. For God and country. That was his motto. He was doing his bit. He wanted to make Britain what it once was. A country unafraid of any other, a country where men fought, prayed and did everything in the name of the Almighty. And he knew that his actions were not met with disapproval. "That is all I ask, my Lord." He bowed his head. "Amen."

The man turned around and walked back towards the door, his footsteps echoing in the empty church. The sound of rain was still there, and so was that of the wind, but the man did not heed them. The only sounds he needed were the music of his heart beating and the sound of his voice praising the Lord.

The man steeled himself and opened the door. A flash of lightening illuminated his face. Tom Marvolo Riddle smiled at the clouds, then proceeded to battle his way through the storm to the portal arch.

* * *

_Extract from "Magical cores and Whatnots"- by Joyce Butler_

Magical power is a subject not understood by magi thoroughly. Experiments upon humans have been conducted crudely in ancient times, but their records are present only in fragments. Olivia of ancient Gaul and Rashid Khan of Abbasid Islam have left records of their (mostly) unsuccessful experiments to gauge the factors upon which depends the power a wizard or witch can channel.

More recent experiments carried out in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries have given us some idea of what determines the strength of a wizard.

The first consideration that strikes the mind is that of the magical core. The larger the core, the larger are the magical reserves a wizard can access. However, this is not a rule of thumb. A large magical core does not mean extreme magical stamina just as a huge muscle mass does not guarantee the man to be a marathon runner.

The second factor which has been pinned down is the physical condition of a mage's body. The stronger the witch or wizard, the easier it gets for them to access their magical core. The process of magical stress lines (purely theoretical constructs) channelling magic is too complex to be mathematically expressed. However, it has been seen that as per theory, the strength of these stress lines and fractures seems proportional to the physical strength of a witch or wizard. (For a more detailed explanation, please refer to _Magic, _Volume 38 Issue 9, Takijima-Kurosaki theory.)

The third factor, which seems to be the most mysterious, is that of belief. A magic practitioner must believe in something. It may be belief in herself, belief in the Lord, belief in her invisible friend etc. From that belief stems the ability to actually use magic for a specific purpose. A witch or a wizard who is not focussed or determined will not be able to cast powerful types of spells. A person who believes wholeheartedly in her focus can maintain the smooth flow of magic for much longer. This is exactly what is taught in the seven years of school and beyond. The way one manipulates the forces of magic inherent in oneself and shapes it into a force she desires using her will in a variety of different ways.

This process is not understood much and measurements have not been accurately made because of the intimate nature of such things. The workings of the magical core, like that of the human brain, still lie outside the comprehension of human beings.

However, a partial understanding of such things can allow us to understand a lot of complex phenomena. To begin, let us examine an equation describing the...

* * *

**A/N : **The Magical theory described in the end will be expanded on in later chapters and will be quite important in understanding why this world of my creation functions the way it does. However, perceptive readers will probably be able to understand where this is going. Magic and magical abilities are going to be governed primarily by the guidelines given above. I'm also constructing my own spell-theory, and I wish to detail it enough that I can have distinctive theories for Transfiguration, Charms, Defense.

Also, in my world, cars are something common between the wizarding and the muggle worlds. The very same companies manufacture cars in both worlds. They have magical and muggle branches, completely isolated from each other. The model numbers, however, will be of cars that exist, so that any curious reader (or any informed person) can visualize the car they are currently using.


	7. The Malfoy and the Tarquin

**A/N :** Sorry I've taken more time than I intended to, folks. I wanted to write after my first semester exams were over, but it was at that time that my grandfather died. You might understand that I was not in any condition to write at the time. Me and my grandfather were quite close.

Anyway, enough with the excuses. Thank you to all the people who've stuck by me and this story. Thank you to all the people who reviewed it even when it was inactive. And thank you, finally, to all the people who appreciated it. So I present to you the sixth chapter of this story, which is dedicated to my maternal grandfather. May his soul rest in peace.

**Disclaimer : **I do not own Harry Potter. That's J K Rowling and Warner Bros. And yeah, I'm making no money off it either.

* * *

**The Malfoy and the Tarquin**

Draco Malfoy stood with his back straight and hands behind his back next to 3 other Death Eaters. They were in the middle of the training grounds of Snow Heath Castle, Lord Voldemort's greatest Fortress. Usually at this hour, the grounds would be full of rookies and veterans alike, practising for the next time they would go on a raid. But not today. The training grounds were all but empty after the attack which devastated the Malfoy home. They were here because the Dark Lord wanted to give them some mission in private. And Draco had a very shrewd idea of what it entailed.

It was no secret that their mission at his house had been a failure. Ginny Weasley was to be kept there for three weeks before being moved. She was to be kept from the hands of the Order of the Phoenix at all costs. She was also to be given the best treatment possible. Just one of the Objectives had been completed. A spy had told them that the Order did not have custody of Weasley and had found a lead on her whereabouts as well. Draco had no idea what the lead was, but he had a feeling he was about to find out very soon.

And right on cue, the gates leading to the courtyard opened and Lord Voldemort appeared. Draco's back, straight as it was, straightened even more, and he was aware of a similar thing happening to the Death Eaters beside him. The Dark Lord commanded as much respect as he did fear, and most Death Eaters were proud that they worked for such a visionary leader.

His Lord stopped in front of them.

"Company!" Draco called, being the leader of this party, "Attention!"

The hands of the four Death Eaters snapped to their sides, their eyes pointing straight.

The Dark Lord nodded at them. "At ease, my friends." His eyes swept over them, and Draco had a hard time controlling the shiver that went down his spine. Those eyes spoke of power, great power, and right now they weren't looking very benevolent either. Draco suppressed his fear. The Dark Lord could smell it a mile off.

"Do you know why you have been assembled here?" he asked.

The four Death Eaters did not reply. The question had been rhetorical, after all.

"Ginny Weasley is not with us here, that's why. She is somewhere in Kirrin, a village south of London. Find her and bring her to me. The only opposition you will have will be from the Order, and from her captor, the Desert Fox. Do not fail me." And with these words, he swept out of the courtyard, leaving his Death Eaters looking at each other, wondering what would happen to them if they failed.

Draco sighed, it was a game for the Dark Lord. Nothing really happened to those who failed, the Dark Lord needed his soldiers just as much as they needed him. But fear of terror was generally a good motivator, or so Lord Voldemort thought.

"C'mon." Mumbled Draco, his weariness catching up with him. He turned and led the way out of the courtyard, the Death Eaters hurrying to keep up with his long strides.

A van was waiting for them close to the gates. The four of them piled in without any ceremony. Draco slid into the rearmost suit to find four suitcases waiting for them. He handed the suitcases to his team-mates silently and opened his own. Standard Death Eater Assassin Equipment greeted his eyes. He stared stony faced at it, his nails digging into his palms. He clipped the case shut, stowing it away. The van started, and Draco put his head against the window, forehead against the cool glass. His tired eyes closed as he valiantly fought to keep them open, but to no avail. Sleep claimed him.

* * *

Draco woke when the van stopped. He looked around.

"Where are they?" He asked. A Death Eater pointed silently towards a cheap hotel. Draco stared hard at it. Nothing.

Draco rounded on another man. "Wilmore, scan the building for wards. I want a complete profile ASAP. The rest of you, into the van. And suit up, Wilmore!"

The Death Eaters hastened to obey his orders. Within minutes, the van was filled with Death Eaters clad in black waiting for the results of Wilmore's scan.

Draco calmed his mind while waiting. The sleep had been uncomfortable, but he had trained and rested in far worse. He gripped his pistol tightly as he waited eagerly for a chance to match his own prowess against that of the mighty Desert Fox. A memory flashed in his mind. The Desert Fox leaping gracefully to avoid a stunner while his shield blocked the bludgeoner. That had been... acrobatic, to say the least. But most of all, Draco wanted to prove to himself that the Malfoys were superior to the Tarquins.

Rumour had it that the Desert Fox was the youngest of the Tarquins, a family almost legendary for their magical power, and just as famous for their cruelty and narrow-mindedness. However, few knew that they had been one of the few bulwarks against the dark vampire Count Dracula during the 18th century. It was not a fact they advertised, and even Lucius had difficulty finding out this little detail. They were also, on the other hand, the instigators and the leaders of the muggle-killing spree during the 3rd crusade in the holy land, going as far as to leave Europe and set up a temporary castle there. This fact too, was very little known. They were well-known for being the last human rulers of the kingdom of Transylvania, having subjugated the vampires of the Gray clan. They had been overthrown during the First World War. The Gray clan had capitalized on this opportunity and had taken over the government of the state. No one knew of the current whereabouts of the family, but it was said that they were biding their time, waiting for the right moment to emerge and strike a decisive blow to the vampires.

The Malfoys, on the other hand, had been nobility for a long time, loyal to the crown for as far back as Alfred the Great. They had remained loyal to the crown even after William the Conqueror had taken over, and were still loyal now. And Draco knew that they would remain loyal forever. Their loyalty was not first to the Dark Lord, it was to the Queen and country. They had been very influential in the politics of Great Britain, Galbraith Malfoy having been a very close confidante of King Henry V.

The rivalry between the Malfoys and the Tarquins had begun during the crusades, when Borislav Tarquin had killed Edward Malfoy. The Malfoys had tried to undermine the Tarquins' schemes for generations now, and he, Draco Malfoy had just got the chance to follow in his ancestors' footsteps. He gripped his gun tighter, his other hand going for his shielder.

Several minutes passed, and all the occupants of the van could hear were the occasional sounds of traffic around them. It was too late for pedestrians to be out on the road, it being past eleven in the night. Kirrin was indeed a quiet place, but not like most wizarding villages. But this quiet seemed unnatural. A single street light flickered on and off, giving the car a ghastly feel. A black cat went by, staring at the tinted windows of the car with its yellow eyes, before giving an ominous hiss that sent chills up everyone's spine. It looked straight at Draco's eyes and he swore that it winked at him before disappearing into the inky blackness of the alley. The wind picked up a bit, and a small piece of paper lazily traced its sorry path through the air before coming to rest on a dustbin underneath the flickering street light.

Half an hour had passed. Draco had started to get restless. It was an inn, not a fortress, for God's sake! What was taking Wilmore so long? He had been told not to engage!

"Permission to speak, sir?" A voice broke into Draco's thoughts.

Draco stared at the man, his face expressionless. He stared until the man began to visibly wilt under his stare. "Speak." Commanded Draco imperiously.

"Should we not check out Russell, sir? It has been some time since he..." The man trailed off.

Draco nodded. "A good idea. Wear your helmets. Let's go and see what the Desert Fox has in store for us." His two subordinates nodded.

The three of them got out silently, making as little noise as possible, creeping towards the building. The hotel seemed to be a small, seedy place. Dirty curtains adorned its windows and shrill music blared from an inexpensive music player. Draco frowned. The Desert Fox could easily have chosen something more secure. It wasn't as if he had no money. This village surely had better hotels than this.

A car suddenly roared into life in the distance, startling the three Death Eaters. They relaxed as its sound faded into the distance. Draco took out his wand and made a pentagon in the air. The lines flashed green before disappearing. Draco's face turned quizzical. Even the basic detector spell gave no signs of protection. So where were the wards the Desert Fox had set up? He tried the spell again with identical results. He waved his wand in a different pattern. Again, the new spell told him the same thing. There were no wards of any sort covering the hotel. Draco became suspicious. These spells were very generic. They could neither tell you what wards were there, nor could they neutralise any wards. But they could tell you whether there was any disturbance in the magical field around an object or not. There was none here.

"Advance with caution." He muttered into his mouthpiece. His two companions made noises of affirmation before entering into the building through a dingy side entrance. A small charm rendered the hinges noiseless, and they moved in, senses on high alert, both magical and otherwise.

Draco extended his mind slowly and tentatively outwards. He encountered nothing human, just a surprising number of doxies and other magical pests. But this - there! There was something human. Time for an unorthodox trick he'd learned from his uncle Rudolphus.

He refrained from touching the minds of the humans, but went instead into the minds of a couple of doxies. It was much easier than breaking into the minds of humans, but decrypting and understanding their primitive thoughts was much harder than almost any other discipline of legilimency.

Draco frowned as he focussed, tuning out his own breathing and trusting his sidekicks to watch out for him. He forced his own thoughts down as he shaped his mental probe into an ice cold spear and plunged it into the mind of an unsuspecting doxy.

Random data almost overwhelmed Draco. Being a non-human, and a non-sentinent creature, a doxy's mind was very very weird. Draco grit his teeth and hardened his probe, willing it to decipher what it saw. Colours and sounds whirled through his mind, each one stranger than the rest. Smells, feelings, and more importantly, urges. The probe seemed to be sifting through them at an alarming rate. Just as Draco thought that he would have to withdraw, the colours and sounds seemed to suddenly coalesce into a recognisable picture. Draco had been able to access its visual cortex. He congratulated himself on his success.

Nothing, just a curtain of a reddish colour. A bit more effort, and there! Now he had audio as well. He could hear whispering voices. Draco ground his teeth. Stupid doxy. Look at them for god's sake! The doxy must have picked up on his thoughts, because the next instant it looked at the humans near it. Draco's eyes widened. Remus Lupin, the werewolf. Nymphadora Tonks, the auror (and his cousin, he thought with distaste). Elphias Doge, the detective. The doxy swivelled around and he glimpsed a few faces he did not recognise and another couple he did recognise. Bill and Charlie Weasley. Dumbledore had really gone all out on this one, thought Draco sourly.

Draco returned to himself to see his companions having taken up defensive stances near him. Draco called them and appraised them of the situation before telling them to follow his lead. He had no idea where Wilmore was and even worse, he had no idea where his quarry was. But he had a very good opportunity to bring down Dumbledore's people. As they walked, senses cocked for any disturbance, his mind came up with a plan based on their limited firepower and strength. From what he had seen in the mind of the doxy, their enemies too had nothing big. Only pistols, nothing heavier than silenced Desert Eagles.

They reached the room in which he'd seen the order. A Death Eater tiptoed towards the door and took out a very small ward-o-meter. Almost immediately it gave an answer. There was nothing more than a proximity ward, which, thankfully, they hadn't triggered yet. Draco nodded. They had very few big tricks, all of which were meant to be used in an emergency. But the plan in Draco's mind required no big tricks. At least, not immediately. He activated his mouthpiece and began telling them his plan.

* * *

Remus Lupin was looking around at the room, wherein were sitting nine fighters. He was the head of this small party tasked with recovering Ginny Weasley. They had taken positions in this hallway, from which almost everyone who traversed the hotel would have to pass to get out. They had sealed all other entrances to the hotel except for a service entrance from which hotel personnel would pass from time to time. They had put up a ward on that telling them whenever anyone moved out. The plan had a very simple strategy behind it. Instead of tiring themselves out, waiting for the Desert Fox to be found, they would wait for the Desert Fox to show himself. He was strong, yes, but not strong enough to break wards maintained by nine people. And if he decided to take his time, well, they could always find him.

Everyone here was on low alert. They had wards and they'd chosen their hiding places well. Now all they had to do was wait.

Suddenly, the proximity ward went off. It took less than a second for everyone to reach their hiding places. Remus held his breath. In a moment...

The door creaked open, and Remus's heart pounded faster. Any second now...

But no one came in. The door opened completely to show nothing but an empty hallway half-lit with dingy lights. No one spoke a word. The only sound in Remus's ears was of a song playing somewhere close by. 'The Wickerman', by Iron Maiden flashed across his mind.

Tonks's voice crackled through his earpiece. "Remus, I say we-"

"No Tonks." Replied Remus. "No. No one knows what might be there on the other side. We wait for them to come."

There were affirmative grunts from the other members of the squad.

He heard a harrumph from Tonks but other than that, she stayed quiet. The song kept on playing as they stared at the door, its music giving the wait a feverish, impatient edge. They stared at the door, prudence overruling curiosity as they fought the urge to go investigate. A few seconds passed. Suddenly a spell shone in the corridor. Remus's heart raced. And then another. And then another. There was return fire and someone screamed. Remus willed himself to not move. But apparently he was alone. Everyone else abandoned cover to join in the fray.

"What are you doing?" Screamed Remus.

"Death Eaters, Moony!" Yelled Bill.

Remus wasted no time. He sprung forward like an animal to join his comrades. Death Eaters could not be allowed to get Ginny at any cost. Not after the last battle.

His men burst into the dimly-lit hallway, throwing stunners at both sides. The spells suddenly stopped.

"Yes!" yelled Charlie or someone else, he couldn't make out. It had worked! Remus felt triumph at their victory. Elation swept through their group as they all cheered as one. They could bring Ginny to her mother and end this chapter in the war's history. Dumbledore did not tell them why he wanted Ginny so badly, but Remus knew that the old man would not be so insistent if it was not important.

They had celebrated too early.

Three spells burst into their group and downed three order members. Three more spells were blocked by the quick action of shielders. Remus was the quickest to act, firing off three stunners in quick succession followed by a couple of bludgeoning hexes. The other Order members fired their sidearms as well. There was no response. The people who'd been shooting them must have changed positions quickly. Remus cursed at the half-light illuminating the corridor. It aided their disillusionment charms and hid them from the Order's view. All around him, the song seemed to be taunting them. "Your time will come..."

Another trio of spells came, this time breaking through a single person's shields and rendering him unconscious. But this had the added effect of breaking through the disillusionment charms of their attackers. Three Death Eaters could bee seen moving between positions. The company split to go after them. Remus and another man went behind one Death Eater, Bill and Charlie after another and Nymphadora after the third.

* * *

"We've been discovered." came the calm voice of a subordinate on Draco's earpiece. A smile twisted Draco's face, it held a strange malice in it.

"Let them come. They will all burn." whispered Draco, his pistol twitching in his hand and adrenaline flooding his system.

He rounded on the men after him, the infamous werewolf and another man, sending a strong stunner and throwing himself into a roll to avoid two spells aimed at him. He got out of the roll, ducked under another curse as his shielder absorbed another curse and fired a bludgeoner at them. He panted as he moved, his heart beat fast, a vicious snarl on his face. He ducked and weaved as he dodged all that they threw at him and gave them a piece of his mind. His shields buckled under the pressure exerted by the spells they absorbed, a crackling sound emitting from his shielder as it fought to dissipate their magical energy.

Draco turned tail and ran away from the men, the two men throwing both spells and taunts after him, trying to goad him into abandoning his strategy. He grit his teeth and rounded a corner. They would have to turn the corner themselves to reach him.

But his adversaries were smart people. A mirror materialised in front of him, and his eyes widened as he saw a spell coming towards the mirror. Before he could do anything, however, the spell hit the mirror and did not, as he had expected, get reflected. Instead it shattered the mirror, and by a strange coincidence, the pieces flew towards him.

For a moment, the world seemed exceedingly clear to Draco. He could make out every detail around him in the dimly lit corridor. The room numbers, the rusted doorknobs, the filthy carpet, the smell of cigarette ash. He could hear the muffled breathing of the Order members as they ran towards his hiding place. He could hear the song of Iron Maiden as it told him again and again that his time would come. He could feel the rough texture of his Death Eater robes and he marvelled at the difference between them and his tailored Malfoy robes. He could see each and every detail of each shard as it came hurtling through the air towards him, slowing as they did so.

And then suddenly his vision became tunnel vision and his other senses abandoned him. There was just him and the shards flying towards him. The corridor disappeared, the smell of cigarette ash became non-existent, and the room numbers held no meaning for him any longer. In fact he'd even forgotten that he was in a hotel. Gone were the Order members who'd been pursuing him, their ongoing fight now a distant memory. No sound filtered through his ears except an odd ringing sound that seemed to come from somewhere close by. The shards approached him. Closer and closer they got, and Draco's muscles tensed as he prepared to dive to one side.

The shards came closer to him, and Draco could see his reflection in them. His face, determined and defiant. Ready to face whatever the world threw at him. It could've been glass or it could've been metal, it would have made little difference to Draco at that moment, for his legs took that moment to release the energy they'd built up. His magic acted on his legs under the influence of adrenaline, giving him much more power than he would normally have had. He sprung away, his trajectory mirrored in the thousands of mirrors going through the space he had been in. He watched the pieces hit the wall and shatter. And then he hit the floor himself.

Everything speeded up. The mirror shards crashed against the wall and shattered, littering the floor. Iron Maiden invaded his ears again, cigarette ash assaulted his nose as he hauled himself to his feet. And not a second too late as the Order members burst into the corridor, weapons blazing. His shielder responded to his thoughts as he deflected spell after spell, firing a concentrated stream of bludgeoners on one man. The shielder's crackling increased, but Draco stood his ground, his pistol firmly pointed in front of him.

He suddenly changed the stream of bludgeoners into stunners. And the man fell. Draco's body surged with triumph as he performed a backflip, twisting his body in the air to land with his back to Remus and fled, dodging spell after spell, his magical senses on high alert, telling him the location of the spells as they neared him. He leapt onto a table and performed another flip, landing so as to face Remus, whose helmet had come off sometime back, and began moving backward, firing spell after spell at Remus, who began to charge. Draco's stomach lurched in fear. The werewolf was enraged. When angry, their skin would develop a level of magical protection almost at the level of an average _protego_ shield. This was bad.

But Draco too was no slouch. He'd fought against the best in both Britain and the continent. He planted his feet firmly into the carpet and stood his ground. The werewolf neared, and Draco waited. Just as he crossed the table Draco had jumped on, Draco sent a blugeoner at it, causing the table to shatter and the pieces to fly towards the werewolf.

He could have thrown feathers at him for all the difference it would have made. The werewolf's momentum barely slowed. But the beast had been partially blinded. Some wood-dust had gone into its eyes. And that was what Draco had been aiming for. The werewolf roared as it neared him, but Draco simply looked into its eyes, and stepped to the side, like a bullfighter without the red cloth. Remus made a wild swipe at him, but was unsuccessful in doing anything. A high-pitched growl burst out of his mouth as he stopped, spells raining on his back. He turned to face Draco again, who'd began backing into the direction they'd come from, raining spell after spell on the werewolf, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Remus saw red.

He howled again, and Draco had to swallow a grin as the werewolf made to charge at him. He almost clucked his tongue as the werewolf tripped against the cord he'd tied for this very purpose. So predictable. Honestly. This werewolf was _slow_. It was obvious that no one had ever trained it in its transformed form, else it wouldn't have taken all of 10 seconds to change direction. And honestly. Who howls before charging anyway? Exactly, it was so passé.

The werewolf got up, its robes torn and its armour showing. It howled. Draco sighed. Again? It charged, its fore-brain having stopped working long back. It charged. And Draco sidestepped it again, giving it a slight push to speed it on its way. Too bad Draco had already reached the corner. Draco grinned as the werewolf ploughed head first into the wall. It fell to the ground, not moving. Draco shook his head, laughter bubbling inside him. He walked to the werewolf, careful to step on its leg as he did so, his mind searching the werewolf's for any sight of deceit. Finding none, he stepped up on his back and holstered his gun. He took out his wand and pointed it at the werewolf.

"What," said Draco softly, "were you thinking, werewolf? You thought you could beat a Malfoy? No one beats a Malfoy. But at least you tried, eh? So I'm gonna give you a present." Draco removed his helmet, allowing his blond hair to fall free. "I'm gonna give you a quick, and painless death." His grip tightened on his wand. "Avada-"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Malfoy." Came a voice from behind him. Draco tensed. Not because of the voice, but the cold steel pressing into the back of his head.

"Cousin Nymphadora." replied Draco smoothly, forcing a mocking quality into his voice. "How nice of you to come meet me here. Now as you can see, I'm busy here. If you would be kind enough to come back when I'm free I will be happy to help you out."

The barrel dug deeper into his head. "Drop your wand, Malfoy."

"Now, cousin, surely you don't care for this were-"

"Now, Malfoy!" Shouted Tonks.

The wand dropped from Draco's hand and onto the body of the werewolf. It emitted a few angry sparks.

"Easy, now, _cousin_." spat Draco. "Its out of my fingers, as you can see."

"Yes." Said Tonks with a self-satisfied smirk. "Hands over your head, cousin. Now move away from the man, now. Yes, slowly, slowly. Yes. Like that. Aren't you a good and obedient Malfoy, Draco? Isn't that what Auntie Narcissa taught you?"

Draco displayed no emotion at all, but inside he was seething. She dared talk at all about his mother! She had no right, the filthy half-blood traitor! And now she had sneaked up on him and disarmed him. Draco felt like a fool. He should have kept his magical senses on high alert. Isn't that the motto of a fighter? Always be alert. He sighed. "All right, cousin. You win. What are you going to do now?"

Tonks smirked. "I know what I'm going to do. I'm got going to feed you anything for a week before full moon, and I'm going to leave you alone with Remus in his transformed state. Then let's see how well you can-"

Thunk!

Draco felt the pressure of the gun to his head loosen. He immediately took full advantage of it, lashing out with his foot to catch Tonks on the knee, breaking it and sending her tumbling onto the ground unconscious. He turned back in a fighting stance to find himself face to face with-

"Wilmore!" Draco had never been so glad to see another Death Eater in his life. "Where have you been!"

The helmet-less man nodded to his leader. "Begging your pardon, sir." Said he in his gruff voice. "I was trying to find the wards in this place. They seemed non-existent." Draco nodded. He already knew this. "Then I stumbled onto the ward of your assailants. I decided to not engage them and try to find out about the wards around a particular room the ward-o-meter indicated. The indication was scarcely there, sir. If I hadn't worked in Macchu Picchu before joining our Lord I wouldn't have been able to recognise the blip worth anything, sir. I tried to profile the wards. They were temporary, or so the ward-o-meter indicated. So it wouldn't have taken long.

"The profile was building, when he came out. I don't know how he knew, sir, I made no noise and I never used my magical core. The ward-o-meter was running on batteries. But he came out and he pulled me into the wards before I could do anything. The helmet didn't work inside them, sir. I have no idea why. And within a second of me being inside, he petrified me. I was able to notice something, however. The red-head was inside with him. They were arguing about something or the other, I noticed. In some time, I don't know how much, he suddenly jumped up and pulled the girl out with him, and she was protesting. Then suddenly her voice stopped. After 5 minutes of that I was able to overcome the magic binding me, sir." The man fell silent.

Draco wasted no time. He picked up his wand and ran towards the main entrance, heart racing. His wand moved in a complicated pattern as he shouted something in a forgotten language. Nothing. They had left already. A great weariness descended upon him again, as the adrenaline rush died down. His limbs felt tired and he sat down in the dingy lobby, looking at the unconscious hotel clerk. Wilmore followed him down.

"Orders, sir?"

Draco looked at him. "Search for our comrades. Awaken them. Kill any order member you wish."

Wilmore nodded and left.

Draco turned to face the entrance which faced an abandoned shopping complex, his grip tightening around the armrest. He'd lost the Fox again.

* * *

Ginny stared in fury at her abductor as he drove the car leisurely along the highway, playing Iron Maiden on the car stereo.

"So tell me, _Hadrian,_" said Ginny, over _Afraid to Shoot Strangers,_ "why could you have not left me with an awakened Order member?"

Hadrian looked calmly and silently at the road ahead, his speed never dropping below a hundred. "Because that wouldn't serve my purpose, Ginny." he said finally.

"Oh really!" Said Ginny. "And what purpose is that, exactly, pray tell me."

Hadrian merely smiled at her. "You wouldn't understand."

Ginny's fury bubbled even higher. "I think I deserve to know." Said Ginny, forcing herself to respond calmly.

"Sure you do. But I'm not sure you'd understand."

"Try me."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

…

"Please?"

"No."

"Just say it already!" The words burst out of Ginny's mouth like thunder. "I can't stand it now!"

Hadrian looked at her, his calm eyes boring into hers. Then he dipped his head in the affirmative once. "Fine. But not on the road."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "When, then? Never? We've been on the road since you captured me!"

"No." Corrected Hadrian, still calm. "We've been on the road since I refused to hand you over to the order members sent to retrieve you."

"Are you inhuman?" Cried out Ginny. "You're keeping a 15 year old girl from her family and now you're refusing to tell her why?"

"Emotional blackmail isn't going to work on me you know." Replied Hadrian, mirth clearly visible on his face.

Ginny let out her breath in a whoosh, willing herself to be calm. "Please, Hadrian?" She asked, trying to look cute.

Hadrian took one look at her and sighed. Ginny smirked. That look could work on anyone.

"Were you as insistent with Dumbledore?"

The smirk was wiped off her face faster than a speeding unicorn.

"What has Dumbledore got to do with this?" She snapped.

"You never asked Dumbledore why he was protecting you so much, did you?"

"We've been over this once already with Shug, Hadrian. I trust Dumbledore. Not you."

"Have I even touched you once, Ginny?" asked Hadrian, his eyes on her face, his gaze intense. "Have I ever molested you? Have I tried to take advantage of the fact that you are a lonely girl out with me and your parents have no idea where you are, or who you're with? Have I even been impolite to you? Have I ever done anything which has compromised your safety? Have you ever thought of the fact that one of the world's best assassins is protecting you? Have you ever thought of it this way?"

The car had stopped at the side of the highway, close to a forest of oaks. Hadrian was looking into her eyes, and Ginny was staring right back, her brown eyes locked with his green ones.

"No." She said. "You haven't. You haven't tried anything. But that doesn't absolve you from the crime of kidnapping me and taking me away from my family."

"It also doesn't render null the fact that I saved you from Malfoy Manor." said Hadrian.

"Where I wouldn't have been if you hadn't kidnapped me in the first place." said Ginny in a faux-sweet voice.

Hadrian shook his head slightly and opened the door of the car. "Get out."

Ginny obeyed, resentment boiling inside her. She slammed shut the door of the car, glaring at Hadrian when he sent her a mildly irritated look, glad that she'd managed to get a rise out of him, however small.

She watched as he rummaged in the trunk of the car, taking out a tent and some other things. She made no move to help him as he set up all the camping equipment on his own, from the tents to the fire. He never even glanced at her as she went back inside the car, reveling in the warmth it provided.

Ginny looked at him as he handled the tents, the resentment inside her dwindling as he worked. He worked methodically and efficiently, unlike the boys she knew, who'd have fun and try to one-up the other. Of course, it probably helped that there was no other at that moment. Just him and his tools.

She sighed as she thought of those others. Her home, her family, her mother. Oh how she longed for the familiar meals made by her mother's hands! How she longed for her father's wise and understanding smile. How how she longed for the comfort of Ethan's arms around her! She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling miserable. The resentment which had started draining out of her returned in full force, as she saw him lighting the fire using magic.

A sense of hopelessness filled her. Would she remain with him forever? Would he even care about what she wanted? Or would he simply dispose of her once his agenda was completed? She glanced at him, almost fearfully.

No. She could survive on her own somehow, and go to her parents. Everything would be all right. After all, the whole of England would be looking for her right? She cheered up at that thought. Her eyes looked at Hadrian again, and she was a bit unsettled to find him staring at her, something in his hands. With a slight smirk, he pressed something. In a minute, Ginny realised what it was, and what he'd pressed. The something was the car's remote, and the button he'd pressed was for climate control. The temperature dropped down to below zero.

Ginny tumbled out of the car to yell at him to realise that it had begun raining. She stared back at him furiously before stomping away from the camp site, not knowing where she was going and not caring either. The nerve of that man! Ginny's fingers twitched. If only she had her wand, he'd think twice about doing anything like that! Frustration boiled inside her now as she stepped deeper and deeper into the woods. She had to run. She knew it. She couldn't stand him. The thought of spending any more time with him was repulsive. She turned around to look at the camp, whose fire was barely visible through the trees. And she ran.

She ran in the opposite direction as fast as her legs would carry her. She ran, time and space having no meaning to her as she dodged trees with reflexes honed out of dodging bludgers, not caring where she was heading. Tears mingled with cold raindrops as she ran. She just wanted to be away from the green eyed monster who'd captured her.

Eventually she stopped at a weathered tree stump. The rain seemed to have stopped falling, but Ginny's tears had not. She sat down, anger and despair filling her. Where was she? Where was the nearest town? Had she crossed over to muggle England? Oh, why did she have to run? Was not confronting a known evil better than fighting one which remained unseen?

Her eyes flickered from tree to tree, her heartbeat slowing as the lactic acid built up in her muscles was slowly metabolised. Nothing. Just endless forest. She didn't even know in which direction she had been running in. Was she north of the camp or east? Ginny decided she didn't care. There was just one way to find help. She drew in a huge breath. And then she hollered.

She shouted as hard as she could. A startled rodent stared at her as it tried to understand what had disturbed its sleep. A couple of owls flew over her, hooting as they did so. The rodent squeaked and went back underground to its lair.

She shouted again. There was no answer this time except the shrill voice of the wind blowing through the trees.

Fear clutched Ginny's heart. True fear. Would her tomb be made of oak? To lie here forever, forgotten by near and far alike?

She sank to her knees, hugging herself to preserve the little warmth her body held. It was the middle of the night, maybe even close to morning now. It was very cold. She drew her legs even further into herself.

But still the cold wouldn't go. Her clothes were too thin for it. Ginny began shivering. It was too cold. Too cold for it to be natural. Unbidden, a memory flashed in front of her eyes. Tom coming out of the diary. Laughing at her, mocking her.

No. She forced it down. She would remain strong. For her family, for herself. The temperature continued dropping, and despair clutched at her. This way she would die! Die of the cold! And then what would happen to her parents? To her brothers? She even felt fond towards Ron now. Oh what she wouldn't give to hear him try to one up her. For once, she would even let him!

Suddenly, a blast of cold wind came from somewhere, almost completely robbing from her the little warmth she still carried. She began shivering violently, valiantly trying to stay coherent through the cold and the unnatural despair that seemed to have clouded her mind. She felt helpless. As if something were clawing away at her very soul, sucking the happiness and cheer out, leaving only darkness and despair behind. Helpless, just as Tom had made her. Just as she was destined to be, just as she was now.

Ginny closed her eyes to try and stem the tide of her thoughts. 'Go. Just go.' She thought. There was no response from whatever was tormenting her. Please...

A hand seemed to clutch at her. And the fear of Tom returned full force. He was laughing at her while she cried, he was perverting her mind to suit his own needs. He was desecrating her while she could do naught but stare at him. His mind as it tore through her memories, laughing at her mockingly.

She opened her eyes to scream. And it died in her throat. For clutching her was a being with nothing for a face. There was just darkness where its face should have been. And two skeletal hands gripped her tightly, preventing her from getting away. Her mind had frozen in fear, because she knew exactly what would happen to her if she was not able to get out of this situation. And she had no one to blame but herself. She alone was responsible for bringing herself into this mess. There was no other.

Hadrian? Why would he come? He was probably happy at having got her out of his hair. After all, it wasn't as if he needed her. He just kept her around, didn't he?

Ginny tried to force these thoughts out of her mind. But she couldn't. She knew, she just knew that there was more than one dementor there. And she knew that she was doomed.

The dementor seemed content to let her stay where she was, seemingly enjoying the torture it was inflicting on her. She knew not for how long she stayed there in its grip, relieving the worst memories of her life over and over again. It seemed like an eternity. Killing Hagrid's roosters, Tom, using the basilisk, petrifying Colin. She slumped over in its arms, dimly knowing that the dementor had enjoyed draining the fight out of her. Now that its need for entertainment had been sated, it would do the only thing imaginable. It would bring her face close to its own, and it would kiss her, taking pleasure in claiming her soul.

And the dementor did that. It began to slowly bring her face closer to its own. Slowly and slowly, slowly and slowly. Ginny's senses were beginning to dull as she got closer to it. Her head swam, and her vision became hazy. She began to hear things that were not there and smell foods she had never tasted. She could feel herself ascending to heaven where there was a silver gateway waiting for her to come through. She was getting closer and closer to it, and the feeling of the dementor's hands on her seemed to lessen. She was losing all feeling in her body as she turned to look at the gateway to one side. It didn't look like a typical gateway. It looked like an animal.

And suddenly her senses returned to her as the dementor dropped her and she saw a silver coloured fox pounce upon it. The dementor emitted a shriek like that of one damned as it crumpled to the ground.

Ginny could see the many dementors around her falling back as the glowing fox chased them away. And in the middle of the chaos, she saw her avenging angel, Hadrian himself, stand tall and proud, an expression of anger on his face driving the dementors back by his sheer presence. Ginny felt the cold melting away and a feeling of senselessness overtake her as she looked at him. She fought it down as she called out to him. "Hadrian..." she said weakly.

Hadrian turned and ran over to her side. "Ginny! Are you all right? I was so-"

She placed a finger on his lips. "Hadrian. Thank you."

And she knew no more.

* * *

She woke up straddled in blankets and looked around her, trying to identify her surroundings. She was in a camp for sure, but it wasn't the one Hadrian had been making that time, was it? Or what was it? She was confused. There was something...

And then she remembered. Dementors. She shivered again at the mere thought.

There came the sound of cracking wood and she saw Hadrian come into the camp site holding a couple of rabbits in one hand and some herbs in the other. The rabbits dropped from his hands as his gaze shot to her. He hurried over to her side. "Ginny!"

"Hadrian." She could barely believe it. She was actually glad to see him.

"I thought you were lost!" He cried. "You've been under for three days now."

Ginny's heart lurched. Three days?

"Well, no wonder I feel hungry." She said in an attempt to lighten up the mood.

"Yeah." said Hadrian, his expression visibly relaxing. "If you can say stuff like that then I don't think there are any permanent effects."

He stood back up and went to the fire he'd got in the centre of the camp site. "Do you want rabbit stew or do you want them roasted?" He asked her.

"Your wish." replied Ginny warmly, watching him with a strange feeling in her stomach.

"Stew it is then. Its easier on the stomach."

"There's nothing wrong with my stomach."

"Yeah." Smirked Hadrian. "Its probably forgotten to digest in these three days. Lack of practise and all."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You know Hadrian?" Said she conversationally. "That was lame."

He sighed, a mock-defeated expression on his face. "I'm sorry Ginny. I can't do better than this in front of superior intellect like yours."

Ginny nodded, a haughty expression on her face. "Don't you forget it." She sniffed.

Hadrian barked out a laugh as he began putting everything in a small pot. She let him work in silence for a while. There was something calming about lying swaddled in blankets with a temperature charm in them, watching him work with this silence being shared among them.

"Why," asked Ginny, breaking the silence, "did you come to save me from the dementors, Hadrian?"

Hadrian turned to look over at her with an 'isn't-that-obvious' expression.

"No." said Ginny. "I seriously want to know."

"Because you're under my care? Isn't that reason enough?"

Ginny stared at him. "There isn't any other reason?" She asked finally.

Hadrian's expression cleared. "Ah! You've fallen in love with me and want me to reciprocate your feelings, eh?" He waggled his finger at her. "Naughty girl."

Ginny rolled her eyes, swallowing a grin. "Yeah right, fur ball, in your dreams. Besides, you stand no chance against Ethan."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Listen Ginny. I always stick to my promises. I promised to myself that I'd protect you until we know why both sides are so interested in you."

Ginny pounced upon this chance. "We're not on the road any more. Tell me, now, why you want to find out about the reason Dumbledore and You-know-who are so interested in me? Your agenda? You promised."

Hadrian sighed as he stared into the fire, stew forgotten. The fire lit his face from underneath, the flickering light giving his face an ethereal glow in the night. He clasped his hands and said, "Understand that I cannot tell you all about this." He held up a hand, silencing Ginny's protests. "Parts of it are too personal. I never ask you to tell me anything about Tom, do I now?"

This silenced her. Something spurred him to find out about this which was as bad as her experience with Tom?

"But I can tell you a bit." Continued Hadrian, oblivious to her thoughts. "I had been commissioned to capture you alive and not use any magic on you. But it was my duty to do a basic check for tracking charms on myself, you and the car. It was no surprise that I found one. The surprise was in the manner in which it had been placed. It had been placed directly on your body."

Ginny was stunned at that. "Who would do such a despicable thing?" she asked, shocked.

Hadrian looked pensive. "I don't know. But I have a feeling that it was Dumbledore. Placing such a thing upon someone requires an intense amount of magical power if one does not use the human-sacrifice ritual. It had been removed from you before Shug and I gave you a once-over.

"But the story does not end here. Malfoy, who'd paid me to capture you, tried to kill me using a car bomb. It all pointed to just one thing. Something big had happened or was about to happen and the Dark Lord wanted as few to know about it as possible.

"I wanted revenge, so naturally I went to try to upset his plans. There was a great battle between the Order and the Death Eaters and I managed to take you away from there."

Ginny pondered upon what he'd told her till now. She didn't think he was lying. He'd proven himself to be a polite man, and she somehow trusted him to not hide things from her. But something didn't add up.

"There's something you're not telling me, right?"

Hadrian sighed. "You are correct. But that cannot be said right now. Neither are you ready, nor am I."

Ginny nodded, understanding that it was as much as he was willing to share at this point in time. "When will you tell me?" She asked.

Hadrian looked at her face intently, like he was looking for something. "I don't know, Ginny." He said finally. "I don't know."

* * *

**A/N :** I usually use this to clear anything which might not be clear in the text itself. But I won't this time. Do PM me if you want to talk to me about anything, I'll surely respond. And yeah. Review!


	8. The Beginning of the End

**A/N :** Hello again, fellas! I'm back, better late than never, eh? Anyway. This chapter was a bitch to write. I had close to 11 drafts of it before I finally pronounced myself satisfied with it. I thank my reviewers and readers once again, and without further ado, move on, people. The chapter beckons.

**Disclaimer : **I do not own Harry Potter. That's J K Rowling and Warner Bros. And yeah, I'm making no money off it either.

* * *

**The Beginning of the End**

Ginny opened her eyes, looking blearily at her surroundings. She blinked and shook her head to clear it. Looking around, she was surprised to see herself alone in a very small room. But before she could query her brain for a location, the door opened and Hadrian stepped in. Ginny looked owlishly at him, a question on her lips, but it died as she saw his amused eyes.

"Let me guess." She sighed. "It was the Order."

A small smile graced Hadrian's face. "Yes."

Ginny scowled. "I still don't get why you knock me out whenever they appear, it's not as if –"

"Oh please." He scoffed. "The Order could only have found our location in that hotel if your shouting in that room was picked up by the werewolf. My ward-work was not shoddy."

"The owner might have sold you out." Ginny pointed out innocently.

"Not if he knows what's good for him. I assassinated the man who killed his daughter."

Ginny averted her eyes from him, slightly repulsed by the easy and casual way he spoke about killing. Even after spending two and a half weeks with him running and hiding from everybody, she still couldn't say she'd grown used to him. She changed the topic.

"Where are we?"

"The poor district of Blarney."

Ginny turned her eyes back at him. "Don't be ridiculous. That place is filled with thieves and crooks!"

"Remember who guarantees your safety."

Ginny stared at him for a couple of seconds. "You know what Hadrian?" She said finally, "I doubt anyone here gives a damn who you are. If they see an opportunity to rip you off, they will. And if turning me over to Dumbledore or Voldemort makes them money, they'll consider it. Hell, forget considering, they'll do it!"

"I don't know miss. To call us all traitors and crooks would be kinda far-fetched." Came a new voice.

Ginny jumped. She hadn't seen him enter at all.

He was a man of slight build and average height. His eyes sparkled with intelligence and his mouth was set in a roguish smile. An intelligent ladies-man, noted some part of her mind.

"Ah," Said Hadrian, "allow me to make the introductions here. Ginny, Healer Williamson. Healer, this is Ginny."

He came forward and offered his hand. Ginny shook it and looked questioningly at Hadrian. He looked blank before realization dawned on his face.

"No. I'm sure he won't betray us out to any idiot out there." He shrugged. "Anyway, we've been living in his house, so do try to trust him."

He looked over at the healer, who shrugged his shoulders once that smile still on his face. "You guys want tea? I've got some on the pot."

Ginny nodded. "Tea would be great, thank you, Healer."

He nodded and went out, leaving the door open.

Ginny squinted at the light, putting her hand to her eyes. Hadrian promptly shut the door. She looked at him again, blinking out afterimages.

"What happened this time? Why did we end up here?"

Hadrian shrugged and sat down on her bed. There wasn't any other place to sit in the rest of the room. It was crammed with stuff she'd never seen.

"Just one of the quirks of fate, I guess. As to what happened, let's just say that you were forced to miss a spectacular view of Loch Falkirk. They came in an armoured Hummer."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. You killed them."

Hadrian chuckled. "Nope. They were too good. It was the worst cat-and-mouse game I've ever played. Weaving through low hills, missing the spectacular view of the lochs around here 'cause you want to save your skin, firing spells while navigating through tricky mountainous turns. It was plain awful."

"How'd you win?"

"By coming here." Said Hadrian simply.

Ginny sat up and looked at him in the eye. He appeared bemused at this. "Who are you, and what have you done to Hadrian?"

Hadrian laughed.

"What?" Asked Ginny.

"I'm not that bad, am I?"

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. From the look on his face, she knew that the effect was not what it should have been, but she forged on. "Hadrian. When have you ever ended a conflict without killing anyone? I mean, really! Oh come on, stop grinning like an idiot. When have you done it?"

Hadrian gave her a quick laugh and stood up. "Come, let's go out of the house."

Ginny shook her head and got out of bed.

"Ginny, wait." Called Hadrian. She turned. "Here, have this." He tossed a cloak towards her.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hadrian, would it not have been better if I'd actually been outside before judging whether I need this or not? I don't usually like cloaks in August."

"It's unnaturally cold outside, Ginny. Trust me, you'll need it."

"Whatever, Hadrian."

"Didn't you just notice the cold when I came in from outside?"

Ginny gave him a strange look. "Hadrian, I haven't gone out or received anyone at the front gate today, you remember?"

Hadrian looked at her as if she was slightly mad. "Ginny," He said finally, "I don't know how to tell you this, but this is the only room in the house"

Her eyes widened. This was _it_? There was nothing else in the whole house? She wore the cloak and stepped out, squinting against the light. When she grew accustomed to it, her eyes were upon the filthiest vista she'd ever seen.

The first thing she noticed was the mounds of garbage. Piles and piles of garbage were present in the narrow road. Flies buzzed around them, reveling in the putrid stench of rotting vegetables. She covered her nose and resisted the urge to puke. There were small, compactly arranged houses all around her, most no larger than the room she'd been in. The bigger houses had at most 2 floors, the ground and the first. People milled around, walking on foot, moving on bicycles, shouting obscenities at each other. All were clad in the oldest, filthiest and most ragged garments she'd ever seen.

"Shocked?" Asked Hadrian, stepping beside her.

Ginny could only nod her head.

Hadrian chuckled softly, a hint of cynicism even in that sound. "The poorest of the poor in Britain. The ministry tries to pretend they don't exist. The area has been magically cordoned off from the main town. Any man who journeys on this road and does not want to end up here is diverted to another route unknowingly. This place receives attention only during election time, when politicians come here with bottles and bottles of alcohol to try and buy votes."

Ginny nodded, as she watched a woman walk past her, shouting at her crying child. When the child wouldn't listen, she smacked him, causing him to fall down, stunned. She dragged him to his feet by his ear and shouted at him some more, before walking off, the teary child hurrying behind her.

"That's just cruel." She whispered softly. "Why did she do that?"

"Because no one here has time for a crying child. The mother is keeping him alive, and that, for her, is enough."

Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat. "And I thought that we were poor."

Hadrian laughed. "You thought you were poor? Ginny, the Weasleys are part of the magical nobility, you aren't poor!"

Ginny turned to face him, hands on her hips. "Hadrian, do you have any idea how many taunts we have to bear with in Hogwarts because of our poverty?"

"You go to Hogwarts, the greatest school for magic in northern Europe, arguably the greatest in Europe. You own an ancestral home in which there are rooms for all of you. You have a family vault in Gringotts. In which way are you poor?"

Ginny opened her mouth to retort. And then paused. What he said did make sense, and if she were honest with herself, Ginny could see his logic. Meanwhile, he continued.

"You are the poorest of the nobility, that I agree. But that's nothing. You lot are frugal. True. But you aren't on the streets. Your parents can afford to send five children to Hogwarts at once. They feed you three full meals a day, they buy you presents for your birthdays, they buy you Christmas presents. In which way are you poor?"

Ginny had no answer. She looked at the filth around her again to give herself some time to think. She looked hard at the people, hoping inspiration would strike her, but nothing came.

It was a full five minutes before anyone spoke. "Come." Said Hadrian finally. "The good healer's waiting for us in the next house with some tea."

* * *

It was night time. According to the custom of the slum, a great bonfire had been lit in the heart of the place and most of the slum's inhabitants were gathered around warming their hands. Ginny sat next to an old man and the healer staring into the flames.

"Tea?" Came the amused voice of a young girl. Ginny nodded and accepted the chipped cup. She turned around to look at Hadrian who was talking to an old man with the look of a hawk.

"Been with him long?" Came the healer's voice to her right.

Ginny turned sharply, her heart pounding. She hadn't been expecting him to speak to her. He chuckled. "No need to be afraid, Miss." He held up his hands. "Hadrian wouldn't leave you with me if I meant you harm."

"He isn't omniscient." Retorted Ginny, her heartbeat settling back to normal.

"True," replied Healer Williamson, "but he knows this place very well. He came here at the age of thirteen, three years ago. Bloodied and battered he was, and he wasn't saying where he'd come from. The head of the slum, the man he's chatting with, was all for keeping him, for some odd reason. He stayed here for two months, recuperating.

"And then one night, he vanished. Nothing, no sign, no letter, no prior warning. He left. I'd occasionally get letters from him detailing his work. At first I was horrified with the accounts. After all, he was killing, no? But then I got used to it, and even accepted it. He was built to be a killer. A man without fear, a man of considerable talents. And he knew to put those talents to good use. I knew he could take care of himself. Did he elope with you?"

Ginny couldn't help herself, she laughed. When she got her breath back, she replied to him. "Elope with me? What makes you think that?"

He grinned back at her. "Oh I don't know. Just a feeling I had. He's never mentioned a girl in any of his accounts before, and here he arrives with one after 3 years begging me to hide the two of you. What was I to infer?"

"Oh, the story's very different."

"Which story?" Hadrian had just returned. "Oh, by the way, great news. The old house is empty. It just emptied a week back. We'll be lodging there, so you won't have to give up your bed for the lady."

"Thank god." Murmured Williamson.

"Come, Ginny, let's take our stuff there."

* * *

She tossed and turned in the hard bed. She couldn't sleep. The faces of her parents, her brothers, Ethan all danced around her head. She sighed. It seemed like another sleepless night for her. She turned to her side and looked down at her captor.

Hadrian. The Desert Fox. What was she to think about him? A highly trained killer who had kidnapped her to take her to Lord Voldemort, and then rescued her himself. But he hadn't taken her back to her family. No. According to him, there were sinister plans being hatched around her and he wanted to thwart them. Yeah right. Ginny was young, not stupid. No one did anything for others without an ulterior motive. But what motive did Hadrian have?

She looked at him sleep. He looked so innocent. Just like any other teenager. She remembered what healer Williamson had told her about him. How he'd come in broken and bleeding at the age of thirteen. How he'd turned to killing for a living. Looking at him now, Ginny's heart ached for him. He did not deserve it. Sure she'd hated him when they'd first met, but somehow… she didn't hate him anymore. He was just any other person, doing what God told him to do, nothing else. He'd been doing a job when he'd captured her and separated her from her family. Sure, Ginny did miss them. She wanted to go back to them.

But there was a reason the Hat had put her in Gryffindor. She was brave, she was determined, and she knew how to make the best of the situation. She was the perfect blend of courage with rationality. And something was calling out to her here.

Hadrian had taken her to places where he thought he could get answers. She'd protested loudly at their first lodgings. A small seedy hotel where both Death Eaters and the Order had struck. They had met Cassandra Trelawney there. But the old seer had given them no definitive answers.

They'd kept moving after that. But whether it was by chance or by design, Hadrian had been unable to meet any of his contacts. Death Eaters and Order members kept interrupting before anything definitive could be done. They just had something by Cassandra to go on. Something in a language they both couldn't understand.

But right now, none of that mattered. She kept looking at the young man sleeping on the floor. The innocence he'd lost at an early age hadn't completely gone, it seemed. An untroubled expression graced his face and he seemed lost to the world, in another place, a place of dreams and destiny. Ginny was smiling, though she knew it not.

Quietly, so as to not wake him, she slid out of bed, wore her slippers, grabbed her cloak and stepped outside, closing the door gently behind her. A light, cold breeze brushed her face and played with her hair. A lone dog barked in the distance.

The slum was quiet. The silence and stillness seemed comforting to her. It gave her thoughts a sense of clarity she hadn't had for a very long time. She looked at the flickering streetlight and glanced at the houses along the road. Old and decrepit they were. Utensils and stoves were kept outside as entire families slept in the area of a broom cupboard.

Ginny began to walk down the road towards the left, no thought in her head. There was no one else on the road. Just Ginny and the breeze. She turned the corner and came to the place where the bonfire had been lit. The remnants of the fire glowed brightly, illuminating the face of the single man who was squatting there, warming his hands by the fire. Ginny recognized him as the head of the slum. Hadrian had been friendly with him, so she saw no danger in being with him. She picked her way across the broken path and stood near him. He spoke not a word, and neither did she try to break the silence.

They stayed in their respective position for the better part of the next hour, basking in the delicious warmth of the fire.

Finally, the headman opened his mouth. "Cold?" He asked.

"No," Said Ginny, "just couldn't sleep."

The headman nodded and patted the ground next to him. Ginny sat down Indian style, staring at the glowing mass. The headman muttered a word and they glowed brighter for a second before going back to normal.

"Silencing ward." Replied the headman to Ginny's unasked question. "So, when did you two elope?"

Ginny stared at him before bursting out into laughter. "You know what," She said finally, "You're not the first one to make that mistake." She paused for breath. "Hadrian and I are not married. We barely know each other."

The headman smiled. "He obviously cares for you a great deal."

Ginny snorted. "Yeah right. He's wants something out of me. For all I know, he might be holding secret negotiations with both Dumbledore and Voldemort making them bid for me like a common slave."

The headman nodded. "You may think that to be the case. But trust me; Hadrian does not give his loyalty easily. You're probably one of the few who has it in any decent measure."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

The headman turned to look at her, his gaze sharp. "I have known Hadrian for a long time. I've known him from before he came here for shelter, before he became what he is. Hadrian's life has been a farce, it makes me believe that the existence of God is simply some myth mothers tell their children to comfort them. Hadrian has turned out a great lad after struggling through his life. But he lost one thing. He lost his ability to trust.

"He's given it to very few people. His trust, his loyalty are not free goods. One has to earn them. I don't know how or why, but the fact that he's willing to come so far for you, to bring you here tells me something about this business. He's loyal to you."

"Then why does he not take me home?" Asked Ginny softly.

The headman hesitated. "I know not. Hadrian's reasons are his own. But I assure you, it is not for any nefarious purpose. He has too much honor for him to do that."

"I wish I could believe that."

"You can, young girl, you can. Tell me, why did he bring you with him? I mean, what reason did he give you?"

"He told me that there was something fishy about the way both sides were after me. That I had a part to play here which no one understood."

"Hmm," muttered the headman, "I see… Where did he take you? With whom have you met?"

Ginny told him about their journey from Malfoy Manor to the slums of Blarney. At the end of it, the headman's face was scrunched up, deep in thought.

"Young lady," He said finally, "feel not ashamed of telling me this. Are you a virgin?"

Ginny blushed. "Yes, I am."

"Not to be rude, but I will ask you again. Are you absolutely sure that–"

"Yes." Ginny's face was as red as her hair. Weasley red, as Ethan called it, she thought fondly.

"I don't see it." Muttered the headman under his breath. "There are hundreds of virgin witches in this country. Why you?" He raised his voice a bit. "Are you in a relationship with someone rich or famous, like… Albus Dumbledore?"

Ginny's eyes bugged out. "Albus Dumbledore?" She choked out.

"Oh sorry. I thought it was fashionable these days."

"It was never fashionable!"

"Au Contraire, my lady. It was fashionable during ancient Greek and Roman times. I've heard that there's been a re-emergence of the same fashion."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Whoever's been telling you that has been making the mickey of you, sir."

"Oh well," Said the headman, a bit flustered, "I guess I'll have to have a chat with my young grand-daughter again. She lied to me!"

Ginny couldn't help it. She laughed. The headman joined her.

"And you believed it?" Said Ginny, recovering first.

The headman shrugged his shoulders. "How was I to know? I barely keep up with the newest fads!"

"Whatever, old man. Just admit it; you're losing your touch."

"You don't know me, child. I may not be very up to date, but I have magic the likes of which most wizards would kill for!"

Ginny put her hands on the ground and leaned forward. "Oh yeah? Prove it."

The headman smiled at her, accepting the challenge. "Wait here."

He came back in a few minutes carrying a small wooden box. Ginny looked at it curiously. "What is that? A jewelry box?"

"You wish, young lady. No. This is something I won more than a decade ago in a game of poker. They are the knuckle-bones of a magical panther. You think I haven't got it? Well, if this doesn't answer your questions then nothing will."

Ginny swallowed, her heart pounding. She'd never taken divination, but she knew of the powers of the legendary magical jungle cats. Even with modern technology, catching one was almost impossible and killing one was considered one of the greatest moments in a hunter's life. Their body parts had the property of never losing their magic if the jungle cat was killed, however, there would be no magic to exploit in the carcass of a cat which had died naturally.

"Very well." Said Ginny solemnly. "Cast the bones for me."

The headman nodded, the humor vanishing from his face. The cold breeze intensified around them, as if sensing the change of mood in the clearing. "Remember this, Ginny Weasley; remember this for the rest of your life." Said he in a ringing voice. "One can cast these bones only once a decade, and I will do so not to help you, but to help that boy I call my grandson. My children do not need this; their lives are mundane and dull. But if this helps Hadrian at all in accomplishing what he wishes, then it is time for these bones to be cast one more time."

His voice was lost in the howling of the wind as he threw the bones to the ground with strength belying his frame. A bolt of lightning struck the ground between them causing Ginny to jump back. When she looked at the spot again, she found his eyes glued to the bones, his brow furrowed.

Several minutes passed as he pondered the implications of the bones, and Ginny let him.

Finally, he leant back with a sigh and closed his eyes, his face blank. After a minute or so, he opened them and looked at Ginny, his eyes sorrowful. "Alas! I wish I could tell you your fate, but it seems that the fates want otherwise. The magic tells me that your fate is bound to the one you love the most. It tells me naught about the nature of your fate or why it is so, but it tells me that the only chance you have of discovering your fate is if a correct sequence of events happens today. I know not what should happen. I know not when it will happen, but I know that it will happen today, if it does. However, it will be Hadrian's actions which will determine whether you will know your fate or not."

"Is my fate cheerful?" Asked Ginny, trepidation in her voice.

"Your fate is not set. The only other thing the fates have told me is that the arrival of Hadrian has complicated things. The one thread in your fate no one thought would ever go active; its probability of happening was less than one in a million."

"So that means that–"

Suddenly she heard hurried footsteps. The headman looked around, drawing his wand and settling into a defensive stance. "Get behind me." He ordered. "None of my folk are up at 2 in the morning. Ever."

Ginny hurried to comply. She knew not what would happen, but she knew that she wouldn't be going with anyone tonight. Not even Albus Dumbledore.

The footsteps drew closer and Ginny could feel the air charging itself with magic. The headman was strong, whoever he was.

Now they were just around the corner. The headman shot forth a spell which made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It collided with the combined shield of Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and James Potter as they burst into the clearing.

They spotted Ginny and James shouted something to his company. Their guns came out blazing and their spells collided with the powerful shield of the headman, sweat pouring down his face as he held them off. "Run Ginny, run! I can't hold them off much longer!"

Ginny looked at the three men. James was running towards her, his gun weakening the headman's shield. It was a testament to his skill that his shield was still up. She looked at the headman whose face was turning purple from the effort needed to maintain the shield. Her heart was pounding, her mind indecisive. There was nothing to do, was there? She just had to go, no? That was what she wanted, right?

Ginny stared at James Potter as he ran towards her, each stride eating up precious metres of ground. She thought of Hadrian with his earnest face and killer instinct as he defended her from the dementors. What was she to do? "Hadrian…" She whispered, "Help".

And almost just before James could come and grab onto her, a yellow light hit him on the chest and sent him flying back. Only a timely cushioning charm saved him in time. Ginny turned around.

"Sorry I'm late." Said Hadrian stepping out of the shadows. "A growing boy needs his sleep, no?" And with that statement, he charged.

The headman's shield suddenly fell, exposing Ginny to spell fire for perhaps the first time in her life. Her eyes widened as she felt the thrum of magic in the air. They widened even more as she saw the headman fall from spell exhaustion and Remus and Sirius fire twin stunners at him. A scream came out from her mouth as she saw them hit him simultaneously and blood spurt out of his mouth.

That was the last straw for Hadrian. His face was already cold, but now it looked glacial. His spells came out sparkling, and James was being pushed back with every one of them. His shielder was emitting sparks and smoking slightly with all the power it was being made to channel. His pistol was firing spell after spell and showed no signs of relenting even as Sirius and Remus turned their guns towards him, faces twisted with anger and triumph.

Three verses one. Not good odds for any fighter, even if said fighter was the Desert Fox. Ginny's feet were rooted on the ground as she saw Hadrian duck under the rifle-fire of the marauders. His movements were unbelievably graceful, but the spells of the marauders restricted them so much that some of the spells seemed to singe him as they whizzed past. To Ginny, it seemed only a matter of time before his sparking shielder shut down and he became defenseless.

Apparently Hadrian was having the same thoughts. Ginny watched, breathless as he twisted out of the way of a bludgeoner just in time and quickly avoided a stunner using a back flip. He dove to the ground and rolled to the left avoiding two jets of light. He got up in a single, fluid movement and made his way back to her, avoiding their spells with swift movements.

Ginny's mind was in a haze. She could simply not understand what was happening. Spells were raining on Hadrian, whose shielder seemed to be on the verge of a shutdown, just barely holding. The marauder trio was gaining on him, moving forward faster than he was retreating. By the time he would have gotten close to Ginny, they would have been cornered. What was he doing? Did he have a plan? She couldn't see his face, but from the expressions on the faces of James and Sirius, he was probably out of moves. She couldn't understand. Didn't he say that they were safe here?

Panic began bubbling inside her. She looked down at the body of the headman. Was he alive? Ginny could not tell. Her breath was coming out in short gasps. Hadrian was just a few steps away from her. What could she do? She didn't want to go! The headman had told her that the outcome of his actions today would determine her fate. What action could help her here? Was this the correct sequence of events he had been talking about? Was Hadrian supposed to die out here? Was she supposed to kill him? Or was he supposed to kill James and Sirius? Or maybe she had to poison Remus with silver? Ginny's hands began shaking with terror. She was no killer. She didn't want her destiny to be shaped by killing.

Hadrian had ended up next to her, and this had positive effects on the fight for him. The marauders had stopped using the more lethal spells in their guns' arsenal and had come down to stunners and impediment jinxes. His shielder was no longer sparking and he had no need to dodge.

However, both the sides knew that this was just a brief respite. The three marauders had enough brute force in them to easily destroy him in some time. That time could range from a few minutes to many hours. But they all knew that his time would come. And it would come soon.

"Ginny!" shouted Hadrian over the din of spell-fire.

"Yes?" she shouted back at him.

"Listen. Whatever happens, remember to keep your guard around Dumbledore. I know you trust him, but trust me too. He might not be the man you think he is. Just remember that."

Ginny nodded. Now was not the time to argue. He had a plan, and it involved them getting separated. "Is it time to say goodbye, Hadrian?"

He didn't look at her as he opened his mouth to reply, he was too busy with the battle.

But before he could say a word, the most unlikely thing that could have happened chose that moment to happen. Unnoticed by all, a spell from James' wand had been diverted by Hadrian's shielder and hit the headman's hand. And contrary to what Ginny had believed, the headman was not dead. At least, not completely dead. His brain, heart, and more importantly magical core were still functioning.

The magic hit him, and spread throughout his weakened body. Unfortunately, the headman had been holding the knuckle-bones when he'd fallen. No one had tried to stun the magically charged knuckle-bones of a dead magical panther during a fight. The experiment had unanticipated results.

Just as Hadrian opened his mouth to speak, a portal opened to his left and a small thing came hurtling out to strike him on the side. A totally unprepared Hadrian stumbled, losing his balance as he crashed into Ginny and sent them both tumbling into another portal that had opened on Ginny's right. Right behind the little thing they could see two tall, fair men chasing them with looks of surprise on their faces. And before Ginny could say or think anything, all four of them hit the ground on top of one another.

Ginny groaned as she tried to sit up. She shook her head to clear it and looked up to find Hadrian offering her his hand. She gratefully accepted it and got up, pretending to dust her clothes. She was actually trying to find the portal again. But it seemed to have disappeared. Her curiosity satisfied, she looked around and froze.

They appeared to be in a hall of some kind. A royal hall. It seemed to be hosting a court of some monarch. Every member of the court was staring at them as if they had appeared out of nowhere (and they probably had for these people). Each member of the court was wearing ceremonial robes of some kind. Ginny vaguely recalled them from the high-elf inspired robes which had been all the rage two years ago. But more importantly, everyone of them had a sword of some kind on their person. Some of them seemed to have their hands on the pommels of said swords. Ginny gulped. More enemies. She looked at her companions.

The two men (elves, she presumed) who had fallen in with them were on their knees with their heads touching the ground. Hadrian, on the other hand was looking straight at the throne with a slightly wary look an his face. Ginny followed his gaze and almost gasped.

Sitting on the throne was the most beautiful woman Ginny had ever seen. Indeed, she made Fleur Delacour look plain by comparison. She was wearing a red elven gown which bared her lovely shoulders and cascaded down to her feet in waves. Her face was fair and her eyes solemn. Her hair was black as night and her eyes were even darker. Her nose was perfectly formed and her lips were red as ripe strawberries. At this moment though, they were curved in a mild frown as the queen, as surprised as everyone else in the room stared at the new arrivals.

For a minute, there was silence in the hall as everyone assessed the situation. And then the queen broke the silence. She said something in a language Ginny did not understand. The two elves on the ground replied in submissive tones. The queen turned her gaze on Hadrian. He looked back at her and replied in English, "I'm sorry, we do not speak your language, my lady. If you understand English, then know that I am Hadrian, son of none and this is Generva Weasley, daughter of Molly Weasley." He bowed his head.

And then amazingly, the small lump in his clothes which had sent them tumbling into the portal unraveled into a small human being twice the size of Ginny's middle finger. The long hair and curvaceous figure revealed it to be female. And so did the lack of clothes. The little thing chirruped in a high-pitched voice before flying down to the ground using its little dragonfly wings and bowing in the style of the other two elves.

The queen looked at them both with a piercing gaze, ignoring the still forms of the two elves on the ground and the shaking little being. She got up from her throne and walked towards her unexpected guests. The court was silent but for her footsteps. Ginny and Hadrian both stared at her, but the queen had eyes only for Hadrian. She came to a stop in front of him, her black eyes looking into his green ones. "I know and understand English very well, Hadrian, son of none." Her accent was Spanish. Hadrian simply nodded his head. Ginny knew what had happened to him. It seemed that elves had an aura similar to veela.

She spoke, "My lady, I–"

"I did not allow you to speak, girl." Said the queen in a cold voice. Ginny instantly felt snubbed and fearful at the same time. This was the queen's territory, and she reigned supreme here. Ginny knew that the queen had only spared them because she was attracted to Hadrian.

And almost as if fate wanted to prove its theory, the queen smiled seductively at Hadrian, almost willing him to lean in and claim her over here.

And suddenly, a foreign feeling entered Ginny's mind. Possessiveness. She did not want Hadrian to go to this woman. He deserved better. Her eyes narrowed, but she found herself unable to move as the queen's magic pooled around her and prevented her from doing anything. The queen removed her gaze from Hadrian and looked at Ginny, triumph and viciousness mixed in her expression. It was an expression which clearly said, 'I beat you.'

The queen turned back to Hadrian, the smile back in place. She leaned forward to kiss him, and their lips met. Ginny couldn't bear it. She wanted to look away but the queen's magic forced her to look.

He kissed her back. He kissed with all the passion in his veins as his arms went around her and pressed her to him. The queen squeaked in surprise. Ginny wanted to shout at him, she knew this was not him, he would never behave like this with any woman, but she couldn't speak out at all. She fought with the magic holding her, but the queen was too strong.

Ginny looked at the queen kiss Hadrian. Every movement inflamed her. She knew not why she felt this way, but there was no time to think on that. She had to act now. She concentrated on the bonds around her. They were strong, yes, but the queen was distracted. Subverting a mind as powerful as Hadrian's was bound to weaken other spells she was holding up. Ginny concentrated harder, willing her magic to come out of her fingers and break the bonds. It was a theory she'd read about powerful magicians who could make magic work for them without a focus when in dire need. Ginny didn't know whether this qualified as dire need or if she was powerful enough, but she had to try. She imagined her magic coming out of her fingers and unraveling the bonds holding her still. Nothing happened. She tried harder, a mixture of panic and determination fueling her desire. She tried harder, forcing her magic out of her, willing it to do something.

Nothing happened.

She could only see as the queen broke the kiss in front of her and smiled at him before turning to Ginny. She began walking towards her. "Impudent brat. You thought–"

A hand grabbed her. The surprised queen looked back to see that the hand belonged to Hadrian. "We're not done yet, are we, my queen?" He was smiling, but Ginny knew him well enough by now to see that there was a hint of steel beneath that smile. Ginny sagged in relief. He was fully in control of himself.

Wait a minute.

He was in control? That made no sense. His behavior was–

The queen waved her free hand at him dismissively. "Not now, Hadrian. I have no time for your–"

"You will suffer my idiosyncrasies."

He pulled her back to him and stared into her eyes. The queen looked at him and turned on her charm again. Ginny had a swooping feeling in her stomach. The compulsion was much stronger this time, Ginny knew that. The queen would make no mistake this time. And this time, Hadrian would not be able to resist, her brain told her.

Clearly, it had not understood Hadrian yet.

Hadrian held both her wrists in one hand before moving his other hand onto her throat. There was a rasp of steel on steel as the nobles of the court unsheathed their swords. The queen looked into his eyes and he into hers. His fingers tightened. The queen kept looking at him.

A full five minutes passed as no one spoke.

The queen decided to break the silence again. "You will break, but not bend, will you?"

Hadrian's lips quirked. "No."

"Very well." said the queen. "It is useless to do anything else here except allow you to remain as guests of the court. You will not cave, the others are mine own people, while the girl is untouchable."

Hadrian's voice was confused. "What?"

The queen glanced meaningfully at his hands before looking back to his face. "Oh, right." mumbled Hadrian and released her.

The queen massaged her wrists and throat before snapping her fingers. Ginny stumbled as she was released but did not fall. She glared balefully at the queen but said nothing.

The others remained on the ground. The queen spoke a word and they all got up. She said something else to them. The elves bowed and retreated to the exit, never showing their backs to the queen.

However, the miniature being refused and chirruped at the queen. The queen's eyes narrowed as she looked at it. She snapped at it harshly. The little one covered its eyes with its hands and chirruped pitifully.

The queen however, seemed disinclined to favor the little creature. She said nothing, but her expression became menacing.

Ginny was confused at the exchange and looked at Hadrian. She got no help there, as he too was looking absolutely befuddled.

She looked back at the two arguing beings. The little thing was pointing at Hadrian, then itself and then at the queen as it chirruped. The queen looked at Hadrian and then the being. She said something, and to Ginny's surprise, the words were in English. "Hadrian, son of none, I wish to say something on behalf of Cassandra here. She says that she has bonded to you. Is that true?"

Hadrian looked at her with a blank expression. "What?"

The queen snorted. "Eloquently put. It seems that Cassandra was lying to me, right?" Her gaze turned menacing as it turned to a panicked Cassandra. She was shaking her head at the queen, chirruping something.

The queen turned to Hadrian. "So you contest what the fairy just said?"

Hadrian shook his head, "Look, your majesty, I have no idea what's happening here. I have no idea of fairy customs and even lesser knowledge about the laws of Shadow Elves. So someone's going to have to tell me what she's accusing me of and what I did. I just met her before tumbling through the portal."

"Ah, yes, the portal. That too will be touched upon, but later. First things first." The queen tossed her hair back in a graceful movement. "The fairy says that she has bonded to you. That is no oddity in the elven nation, even though it isn't common. However, this is the first time in history that it has happened to a human.

"We have our laws for what to do when a fairy bonds itself to you, but I don't think that our laws can be applied to humans."

"Umm, is it that important?" Asked Hadrian, smiling self-consciously. "You see, I haven't had food for a while, and we were in the middle of a fight before we came here, so..."

The queen all but rolled her eyes. "This decision will impact the fairy for the rest of her life, and you're worried about your stomach? Typical human."

The last bit was said in an undertone, but Ginny heard it anyway. It made her temper rise and words burst out of her mouth. "Listen, you. I don't care who you are, but you have no right to say that to him. You have no idea what he's been through before ending up here."

The queen turned to look at Ginny, a look of spite on her face. "When it pertains to the welfare of my subjects, then I do not care for niceties. I have a duty to them."

"What duty?" countered Ginny. She let out a laugh. "You were about to–"

"Enough." came another voice, smooth and cultured. All of them turned to look at an elf, his face old and lined. The queen raised her head to look at him, a haughty expression on her face. "My queen, I believe you've had a long day. It's time for you to rest. I will take it from here."

The queen looked at him, and left without another word. The man's gaze remained on the queen, no expression on his face until she left the room. Then it turned to Hadrian. He made a gesture to the court, and they all left, leaving only the four of them in the room.

The elf looked at them and bowed slightly. "It is an honor to have such noble guests in our company. I will endeavor to keep you as comfortable as I am able. I understand that we would be horrible hosts if I do not allow you to attend to your stomachs, so please follow me to the dining chamber.

* * *

Ginny stifled a hiccup as she went for the water. Hadrian looked at her, greatly amused. She stopped when the glass was halfway to her mouth, conscious of the stare of Hadrian as well as the fairy, who was sitting on the other side of Hadrian's plate and eating small bits daintily.

"What?"

Hadrian snorted, unable to hide his grin. "The famous Weasley appetite. I get to see it up and close."

Ginny looked at her plate of unfinished food and blushed. Hadrian had finished about 10 minutes ago. "All right, I'll just finish it."

"There's no need to hurry." said the old elf. He too was amused, but he did a much better job of hiding it than Hadrian.

"Yeah." said a grinning Hadrian as he snagged a piece of chicken from her plate and offered it to the fairy who considered it for a moment, then bent forward and ate it straight off his finger. He looked at the fairy in astonishment, who giggled and blushed. "We have to get you clothes, little one." The fairy blushed deeper.

Ginny looked at their interaction with warmth in her eyes. The fairy had surprised everyone by flying up to Hadrian's mouth and kissing him on the lips. Hadrian, however had taken it in his stride and had allowed the fairy to ride on his shoulder and eat from his plate. Ginny could swear that in the short time they'd known each other, Hadrian and the fairy had formed a bond deeper than any they'd had before.

"So you're thinking of keeping her?" asked the old elf.

Hadrian turned his gaze to him. "I'd love to answer your question, but first do tell us who you are."

The elf smiled. "Very well. I am Az-Herod, the prime minister of her majesty's empire. I was prime minster in her father's time, and in her grandmother's time too. And I also offer an apology for the queen's behavior. It is a bad time for her."

Hadrian's eyebrows went up to his hairline. "Oh?"

"Yes" Said the elf, "but that is a private matter. Back to my question, if you please. Are you thinking of keeping her?"

Hadrian turned to look at the fairy, who was looking at him, her cute eyes pleading. "You wanna stay with me?" The fairy nodded. "Fine, then. Why not?"

The fairy squealed and flew over to his face to hug him. Ginny laughed at Hadrian's expression. Sure, it is any boy's desire to have a good set of breasts pushed up against his face, but she doubted that Hadrian would ever have imagined it to be like this. The fairy pulled away from his face, embarrassed at her display and began to fly off. Hadrian grabbed her legs. "Where do you think you're going?" The fairy ducked her head and began chirruping. "You know I can't understand that. But if you're afraid, there's no need to be. Just sit on my shoulder and everything will be fine." The fairy turned to look at him. Something in his face must have reassured her because she gave him a timid smile before flying back and settling on his shoulder and grabbing a little fistful of his hair. Hadrian smiled and turned to the prime minister.

"Forgive me, sir."

The elf smiled. "Seldom have I seen such a deep bond between any two creatures."

"Excuse me, Prime minister." said Ginny. "But bond? Doesn't that happen with exchange of blood or something?"

The old elf laughed. "You are right, Miss Weasley. Some bonds do form that way. They are bonds steeped in magic, bonds devised by magic for the most powerful, the greatest of creatures to walk this earth. There is a reason human ministries have outlawed such bonds until they aren't sanctioned."

"Not in Britain."

"Agreed. In Britain, blood bonds are part of your life. Britain has produced a veritable flood of powerful witches and wizards in the past 500 years. They cannot be outlawed in Britain. They are, however, monitored and recorded, no? But there are bonds which are different. There are bonds which are formed not due to an exchange of blood, but due to mutual love and trust. There is an old human saying; blood runs thicker than water. That is why family is great. The bond of blood between people strengthens relations. But having studied magic for more than 300 years, I can tell you; do not underestimate the power of trust and love. Bonds forged by them are not just any other bonds, they can be more powerful than bonds of blood. The bonds between friends, for instance, are some of the greatest non-blood bonds you will find. And as our friend Hadrian here can tell you, bonds of blood are not as deep as they sound. Right Hadrian?"

Hadrian's head snapped up where it had been looking down at his plate. Ginny was shocked. His eyes held a haunted, anguished look she had never seen before. At that moment, she understood. There were demons in his life he'd never been able to conquer, and by his reaction, she had a suspicion it had to do with blood.

"You know?" Asked Hadrian, his voice raspy.

The old elf dipped his head once. "Yes, I do."

"How?"

Az-Herod looked at him, his eyes brimming with sorrow. "I have seen. The prophecy talked of one of you. I knew I had to watch you both–"

"There is no us 'both'!" Roared Hadrian, fury evident on his face. The fairy squeaked and grabbed a second fistful of hair to steady herself. She went to his ear and started whispering. Hadrian seemed to calm down at that. He breathed deeply and within seconds was as he had been before this discussion. "Forgive my outburst, prime minister."

The old elf inclined his head. "No apologies needed, young man. The topic indeed is sensitive. But as I said, I was watching over you both until your parents decided to throw you out. Imagine to my astonishment when they made an arbitrary choice and decided that your brother was the one whom the prophecy spoke of."

The glass in Hadrian's grip shattered. "He is no brother of mine."

Ginny looked between the two of them, appalled. He'd been thrown out by his own family because of a prophecy? That was absurd!

"Let's call him your brother in this tale, shall we?" said the old elf, watching Hadrian closely. Hadrian's only response was to grip the table tightly, as the fairy flew up to his head and began running her little hands through his hair, murmuring softly. "I followed your life, then, knowing that your brother's life was to be mundane and boring. I was wrong, if you look at it absolutely, but right if you look at it relatively. Your life turned out to be much more eventful."

"If you knew," began Hadrian, his voice deadly, "then why did you not intervene?"

"I cannot intervene in human affairs unless and until said human does not walk down to my himself."

"That is just a law! You can break laws if you know that the spirit in which they are being implemented are wrong!"

"Not this one." The elf picked up a spoon. "You see this spoon?" He let it go. It fell to the table. "The fact that the spoon falls to this table is also a law. Yet, even if the spoon was a rock which knows that its fall will kill someone below it, it cannot break the law. My law is that kind. Elf-kind cannot break it at will."

"Then why follow my life?"

"Because this conflict will result in things which have never been anticipated before. The world itself shall be broken apart by this conflict and rebuilt like never before. If the elves do not adapt, then we will be swept away by the inexorable tide of fate. And because I am a seer, and I know of some things which might happen. I had a vision of either of you in an elven court. The fact that it appeared to me was not lost and I began actively keeping tabs on you. I saw everything. I say your early life, your training, your struggles, and I saw her too."

"Me?" asked Ginny, surprised. "When did he meet me before this?"

"You wouldn't remember." mumbled Hadrian.

"When, Hadrian?" Ginny demanded.

"The Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore couldn't go down to the chamber himself, so he called someone in. My master. My master did not know parseltongue, so he arrived with me and in a sadistic burst of malicious glee, let me go to the chamber on my own. I arrived, I fought the basilisk and destroyed the diary, defeating Riddle in the process. I left before you woke up with the phoenix. As soon as I left, Dumbledore came down. That's all I did."

Ginny stared at him. Her head was full of denial. "No. No. This can't be true! It isn't true! Dumbledore would never lie! He wouldn't!"

She turned to the elf. "Is it true?"

The old elf nodded, his expression grave. "Every word of it."

She rounded on him. "Then why did you not tell me?"

"I did not want you to remain with me because you had an obligation to your rescuer. I wanted you to remain so that you could find out the truth along with me."

"Hadrian." said the elf. "That's not all, is it now? Tell her the whole reason behind her kidnapping."

"Hadrian?" asked Ginny, her eyes narrowing. "What are you hiding from me?"

He looked at her with a blank expression. The fairy chirruped worriedly. She flew off his head and hovered in front of him, looking into his face and trying to understand the source of his distress.

His gaze went to her and he stroked her back with a single finger, running it down from the top of her head to her dainty feet. The fairy chirruped, still not convinced. "I can't call you Cassandra, can I now? The other Cassandra I know is a seer who is horrible to anyone she meets. Let's call you... Madison, shall we? Do you like this name?" The fairy nodded. "Very well. Tell me, Madison, how do I tell her that the reason I took her from her family, the reason I made her endure this journey is to take revenge on the person she calls her boyfriend? My brother?"

Ginny felt as if she couldn't breathe. Him, Ethan's brother? No. It couldn't be. It wasn't! "You're lying!" Screamed Ginny, getting up from her chair.

"I'm lying?" Said Hadrian, his expression ugly. "I have no wish to be related to those idiotic bastards who sired me! I abhor the Potter family. I wish I had never been born from them. If I hadn't maybe I would have led a normal life! Maybe I wouldn't have been left in an orphanage at the age of 1. Maybe I wouldn't have been whipped for four years. Maybe I wouldn't have had to strangle the man who ran that orphanage. Maybe I wouldn't have been sold as a slave. Maybe I wouldn't have had to become part of the child guard of the youngest Tarquin! Maybe I wouldn't have been kidnapped by the legendary Desert Fox himself and been forced to train from the age of 7 to be the ultimate assassin."

He ignored Ginny's look of growing horror. "Maybe I wouldn't have had to know what it's like to be starved while having 10 major bones broken everyday to speed up my healing magic! Maybe I wouldn't have had to learn martial arts and weapon handling where the price of my failure would be a broken arm! Maybe I wouldn't have to kill someone to get out from under my master's thumb! Maybe I would be famous for reasons other than killing a bloodthirsty vampire with a single bullet. Maybe I could have known a mother's love! Maybe fate wouldn't have killed my closest friend for having the guts to kidnap the girlfriend of the boy-who-lived."

By the end he was in tears. Madison was crying too. Without thinking, without blinking, the fairy flung herself at him, sobbing into his neck as she tried to comfort him with her nearness. He closed his eyes and patted Madison's back softly. "Don't worry, Madison. You will always have me. Always. I will never leave you."

Ginny dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. Even the old elf, who knew all of this seemed slightly shaken. She reached out to grasp his hand, which he retracted. "I'm sorry, Hadrian."

"Don't be." He retorted sharply. Then he added in a softer voice. "None of this is your fault."

"I'm sorry to be asking you now," Said the old elf, "but who died?"

Hadrian looked at him and said in a voice without inflection, "Nadia."

Az-Herod Bowed his head. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"As am I." Replied Ginny.

An incomprehensible murmur was the fairy's addition where she had her face buried in Hadrian's neck.

Hadrian stroked her back again. "Prime minister, I need your counsel."

Az-Herod looked at the young man. "Proceed. If it is within my power to help you, I shall."

Hadrian nodded. "I think it is. We set out on this journey, and more than my thirst for revenge, or maybe to satiate it, I wished to find out the reason behind Ginny's importance. Can you help us? The only clue we have for it is this." He concentrated and reproduced the sound Cassandra Trelawney had made on the day they had met her.

The elf frowned. " Its elvish. It cannot be translated into human tongues, but I think it's clue enough. It is related to blood. Miss Weasley, answer me this. Which bloodline?"

"Wellesley." Answered Ginny quickly.

"Ah, the descendants of Wellesley. Of course. Your father?"

"Arthur Weasley."

The elf thought for a few minutes, before murmuring, "Arthur Weasley, Got it. How many older brothers and sisters do you have?"

"6, all brothers."

The elf got a fleeting look of incredulity on his face before he turned to Hadrian. "Do you get the importance of what she just said?"

Hadrian, however, looked as lost as Ginny herself probably did. "I'm sorry, prime minister, I wasn't able to understand the significance of her information. Would you bother explaining it?"

"She is the seventh child of the seventh son of a family, and she's female." said Az-Herod, his voice faint.

Realization sucked the blood from Hadrian's face. "Oh my god."

Ginny stared at both of them incomprehensibly. What was the big deal? When no one bothered to explain it to her, she got slightly impatient. "Hello! Can anyone tell me what's going on?"

No one answered.

"Anyone?" Asked Ginny impatiently.

Both of them looked at each other, and nodded with an understanding which can only develop between two males. They both held out a fist each and played rock paper scissors. Hadrian lost. Az-Herod smirked and went to sit on a neighboring bench, snapping his fingers as he did. A bottle of elvish wine appeared on the table with three wine glasses. He filled one to the brim and drained it.

Hadrian swore as he sat in front of Ginny, Madison hovering by his ear, chirruping curiously. "Yes, Madison, you'll get to know as well." He turned to face Ginny. "Before you suffer a heart stroke, let me tell you that none of this is made up. I do not wish to tell you this at all, but I am no one to keep you from knowing your fate." He finished with a shrug.

"It's that bad?" Asked Ginny, slightly skeptical.

"Worse."

The hairs on the back of Ginny's neck stood up as she straightened subconsciously in her chair. "Go on then." She said. "Hit me with the worst."

Hadrian took a deep breath. "Aeons ago, there was a prophecy made in the halls of the then-king of Dwarves by a human seer. The details of the prophecy were so interesting that the dwarf king had them put in stone and sealed. The seals were broken at the time of the Romans and the prophecy revealed. The contents were so fantastic that the emperor Trajan made it an imperial secret. However, after the collapse of the Western Roman Empire, the secret passed to the hands of the Templar Knights and finally into the hands of Merlin himself. And he bade the words be sealed in the department of mysteries where they lie till this day.

"The prophecy was known to others, however, who wished to subvert it to their own ends. My master got to know about it from his stint with Grindelwald and Hitler. Grindelwald told them that Dumbledore knew it too, so it was a race against time even then, as it is now. I remember not the exact wording, but the secret was as follows. If the first child of the seventh daughter of a seventh son is sacrificed in the womb during the fifth month, and its flesh partaken raw and fresh during the winter solstice, the man who ate his own child will get possession of an army unbeatable by any other. An army which is made of men riding on nightmares with swords of death. The only man who could defeat the army was the man possessing the sword known as 'The Breath of the Undying'. But technically, the army is still unbeatable as that sword does not exist. Are you OK, Ginny?"

Ginny was shaking, her hands on her stomach. "What?" She whispered, her voice broken. She was still hoping that someone would come and shout 'April fool' or some crap and everyone would start laughing.

But there was no one. Just the old elf sitting watching her, Hadrian with his grave expression, and Madison, who had not a care in the world and was standing on Hadrian's shoulder in all her naked glory, her hand possessively in his hair.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. It sounded unnaturally loud in her ears. Her hands gripped the armrests of her chair shakily. She stifled a sob. It was so unfair. She had nothing bad to her name. She hadn't harmed anyone at all in her short existence.

"Maybe Dumbledore really did want to keep her safe?" suggested Az-Herod.

"Old man," Replied Hadrian, turning, "You've seen snippets of my miserable life, so I bet you've been keeping tabs on others as well. And if I understand your game, it includes Dumbledore too. What have you found out about him?"

Az-Herod looked grave. "Very little about this plan. Dumbledore likes to play his cards close to his chest."

Hadrian rolled his eyes at him. "Come on, prime minister. You've been able to understand Dumbledore the person, no?"

Az-pharaon nodded. "Enough of him to come to the same conclusion you have. Dumbledore has to be planning the same thing Lord Voldemort is. I'm almost certain of it. It's the best chance of ending this 3-decade long war.

"Both sides have got tired of it and the number of defections is higher than ever before. Other countries are refusing to deal with Britain because of this ongoing war. Gringotts' letters of credit have lost credibility and Britain's economy is in the dumps. You can't afford to prolong this war."

Hadrian nodded, then stilled. "Az-Herod?"

"What?"

"Why are you so interested?"

"In what?"

"All this? Our affairs?"

Az-Herod looked at Hadrian. Ginny wiped her tears, semi-interested in spite of herself. Out of the corner of her eyes she spotted the fairy pouting, irked that Hadrian's attention was not on her.

"What do you mean? A prime minister is not a good one if he doesn't know about the affairs of countries other than his own."

"Az-Herod, do not try my patience. Elvish powers of divination are certainly greater than our own, true. But you have had three hundred years, and I'm certain that you aren't the only one who's been doing this. Members of your staff have been helping. And if I were to take a wild stab in the dark, I'd say that your predecessors have been doing the same for centuries now, no?

"All I want to know is, what are your motives?"

Az-Herod folded his arms across his chest. "Even if I had ulterior motives, why would I tell you? Have you done anything to merit my confidence?"

"No, Az-Herod. But if you have seen the entirety of my life, then I think you know me to be a person who–"

"Who can take advantage of others using their slightest weakness? I don't think I'll be sharing anything with you, scion of Potter."

Hadrian stood up, his eyes furious. "Never call me that. I am no Potter."

Az-Herod's eyes glittered. "Oh yes you are. You are a Potter. The way you saved Nadia. The code you have set for yourself. All of it points to just one thing. You are unconsciously doing exactly as Potters have done generations before you. Fortune favors the bold, does it not? Potter." He added the last bit maliciously.

And suddenly the mood in the room changed. An air of wariness and animosity entered it as elf and man stared at each other, camaraderie forgotten.

Ginny stood up. "Guys. Let's not forget ourselves here. The priority is getting back to magical Britain. Hadrian, you–"

Hadrian had raised a hand to stop her. "We can help you." He said to Az-Herod. "We really can."

Az-Herod smiled wanly at Hadrian. "You wish you could, Hadrian, son of none. But I'm telling you that right now, no one can help me. But when the time comes, I will not forget this generous offer Hadrian, and I will hold you true to your word."

Hadrian smiled back, all animosity forgotten. Madison tapped the side of his head indignantly, trying to grab his attention. He smiled at her and extended his palm. The little fairy sat down on it and gave Ginny a superior look as she began braiding her hair. Ginny couldn't help it, she laughed at the absurdity of it. Madison was acting like a jealous lover, and it didn't help that Hadrian seemed to be wrapped around her little finger.

"Is she always gonna be like that?" She asked the prime minister in a low voice.

The prime minister chuckled. "I don't know. Every fairy has its own personality. Having a fairy is like having a highly intelligent pet. They have no special powers of any sort except what they are gifted with by their bonded. But having a fairy is more than just about usefulness, it's about love, care and devotion. If you love one, a fairy will love you back for the rest of its life. It will be your companion, it will cheer you up when you are down, and it will provide a friendship like no other."

Ginny nodded as she watched Hadrian look at his fairy, obediently saying yes or no to hairstyles as she saw fit. "He's able to understand her better."

"One element in having a fairy is that you can understand one very fast as opposed to a non-magical pet like a dog or even a magical pet like a phoenix. It has nothing to do with magic. For elves, it's simply because fairies look like elves and have similar facial expressions and body language. I guess it's similar for humans."

Ginny nodded. There was silence as both watched Hadrian and his fairy.

"So what now?" said Ginny finally.

The old elf sighed. "Hadrian?" He called. Hadrian came towards them both from the corner he'd been in. The little fairy was fast asleep, probably exhausted from her long day. Hadrian looked tenderly at her before depositing her onto his hair where the fairy grabbed hold of his hair subconsciously. He winced. "What, Az-Herod?"

"What next?"

Hadrian looked at Ginny. "I promised her that she would be returned to her parents after I satisfied my curiosity."

Ginny stared at him. "But what about your revenge against the Potters?"

Hadrian shrugged. "Never you mind. It'll be taken care of. Prime minister, can you drop her back to her parents' house?"

Az-Herod nodded.

"Brilliant." He turned to Ginny and held out his hand. "Its been nice knowing you, Ginny. I trust you will keep yourself from blurting out whatever you have seen and heard during this trip with me?"

"They could pluck it out from her mind." Suggested Az-Herod.

Before Ginny could ask what he meant Hadrian was already answering. "Try her shields Az-Herod. There was one good thing the possession did to her and that was building unbreakable mental shields. Unless Dumbledore really tries to actively break them down, they will remain firm."

Az-Herod nodded.

"So Ginny?" Hadrian's hand was still outstretched.

Ginny looked at his hand and at his face. She took his hand, but instead of shaking it, she used it to pull him closer and hug him. He was stiff, almost as if he'd forgotten how it was to hug. Then he loosened, and returned her hug. They both stepped back and looked at each other.

"Don't kill to many people, Hadrian." Whispered Ginny.

"You be careful yourself."

"It's time Ginny." Said Az-Herod. "The portal to your home is open. You may jump inside when you are ready."

Ginny looked at both of them, her expression speaking her mind. There were no more words needed as she looked at the men in front of her. One of them more than 300 years old, and the other scarcely older than her. She knew it would be the last time she would see them as she stepped through the portal and into the kitchen of a very surprised Molly Weasley.

She could not have been more wrong. This was not the last time. In fact, it was the first of many.

* * *

**A/N : **Like it? The next one's going to be Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, with my own twists. :D

The description of the slum is important for later chapters. It is based on an authentic slum which is right behind my house in Chandigarh.


	9. Interlude 1 : The ways of the mighty

**A/N :** Sorry to reward such a long wait with a small(er) chapter. It was mighty frustrating writing this, cause it (not so) subtly sets things into motion. I didn't mean to update so late, but believe me, I have 17 drafts of this chapter on my HDD which I'm just going to delete with a "Phew!"

Anyway, enough whining from my side. I thank my reviewers and readers for their patience.

Oh, and I'd request people to check out a oneshot I wrote, it's called "My Angel". I'm aware the title sounds cliche, I hope the story's not. It a Harry/Tonks with a small bit of Harry/Daphne in between.

**Disclaimer :**I do not own Harry Potter. That's J K Rowling and Warner Bros. And yeah, I'm making no money off it either.

* * *

**Interlude 1 : **The ways of the mighty

Ginny sighed as she looked around herself. It was chaos, as it was wont to be at this time of the year. The day they got back to Hogwarts. Just a smaller chaos than it usually was, for Fred and George were not involved.

Ron was running around, trying to find his favourite pair of socks, while Molly was simultaneously scolding him and trying to find a shirt which he claimed had been sent to the wash. Arthur was trying to find a spell book which supposedly had been lying in the dining room for the past 2 months.

It seemed so trivial to her now. Last year, even she would have been in this rush, just like every other member of the household. But she felt changed after her encounter with the mysterious Desert Fox.

Ginny shook her head to clear it. That line of reasoning always took her to morbid thoughts. She looked around at her family. Shouting and running about each other, true, but she was glad to be back with them.

Molly had uttered a shocked scream and had almost collapsed to her knees at seeing her daughter appear out of thin air. Ginny too had been extremely happy at seeing her mother. Ginny's face split into a half-smile as she thought of the meeting with her father. Her father had taken one look at her and his face had gone white as if he'd seen a ghost. Then he'd run at her and hugged her tightly. It was the only time she'd seen her father break down. Then Dumbledore had come, and then Moody who'd checked her for residual magic. James had come, and so had Lily. Ethan hadn't come, for it was forbidden for him to leave the manor during the summer unless he was under heavy guard. But he'd sent his love.

Ginny was roused from her thoughts by the sound of Ron stomping down the stairs yelling his readiness to start for the station. Her father picked up her trunk and carried it to the car. She followed him and sat down in the car, Ron by his side.

Her mother looked back from up front. "Everything set?" She asked, smiling.

Both Ginny and Ron nodded.

"All right then, Arthur, I guess its time for us to leave."

Arthur nodded, revving the engine. Ginny looked out the window as her house was hidden behind the trees on the Weasley property. She sighed, taking in the scenery. A normal day in the life of a Hogwarts student, albeit a special one.

"You ok, Ginny?" Came the voice of her mother from up front. Ginny turned to find her mother looking questioningly at her.

"Yeah." said Ginny. "Just remembering a similar trip a month back."

Molly teared up. "You shouldn't have had to bear all that Ginny." She whispered.

Ginny didn't answer.

The drive to Kings Cross was not too long, and before she knew it, they were at Platform nine and three quarters, rushing towards the train.

"Thank God we're not late." Muttered Ron.

"Ronald Weasley!" Said her mum in a tone suggesting she was about to vent her ire on him. Ginny smirked. She loved it when this happened. "You know that if we were late it would be because of you leaving your packing for the last minute!"

Ron's ears reddened and he opened his mouth to reply back, but Ginny didn't pay attention. In front of her was a tiny fairy, hovering a few meters above and directly in front of her. She was wearing pink. Ginny looked around to see if someone else had spotted her. When she turned to look back at it, it had vanished.

"...and follow in their footsteps. If I even hear a word of you getting in trouble..."

The same old story there. Ginny almost stomped her foot, her impatience bordering on the extreme. Hadrian was here? Why? And where? Was he in disguise? Why did he bring Madison with him? Where–

A pair of hands covered her eyes and a voice called, "Guess who?"

Ginny almost squealed with joy, all thoughts of the Desert Fox and his fairy vanishing within an instant. "Ethan!" She turned around and hugged him. "I missed you." They pulled apart. Ethan looked into her eyes and hugged her again.

"You know what?" He whispered. "Me too."

He let go of her, smiling. Ginny let a warm feeling enter her. She felt nice with him. She belonged with him. She smiled as he clasped hands with Ron and greeted her family. She looked around. A contingent of fifty order members were gathered around them led by the famous Mad-eye Moody. A guard of honour indeed. In their midst he spotted James and Lily Potter smiling at her. She waved at them and they waved back.

Her eyes went back to Ethan who was discussing quidditch with Ron. She smiled exasperatedly before putting an arm around him. "Come on, now. Quidditch all the time is bad for you. I've been listening to Ron talk quidditch all morning before he left to pack. Let's talk about something else. How was your holiday?"

Ethan put his arm around her waist and squeezed gently. "Let's put our stuff on the train and then talk, ok? You made prefect, no?" At her nod he gave a satisfied grin and continued, "We can schedule our patrols together." He bent down to her and whispered so that Ron couldn't hear. "Just the two of us." Ginny felt a shiver run down her spine. A soft, pleasant tingle.

* * *

"And that concludes the meeting. If you have any questions to ask, please do not hesitate." The Head Boy looked around at the assembled prefects. "None?" When no one was forthcoming, he nodded. "OK then, go on back to your friends. Remember your patrol schedules."

Ginny rose along with everyone else. Her patrols had, to her amusement, been scheduled with Ethan all along. She had a feeling that he'd talked to the Head Girl before this and used his considerable charm to get what he wanted.

They all got out, going to their respective compartments. She was walking slightly behind Hermione and Ethan, who were arguing on something. Potions, probably. Ethan took after his mother in this regard, much to the irritation of Professor Snape. Or maybe they were discussing house elves. Ginny smirked at that. Hermione had been on a crusade since fourth year to free house elves from wizard control. Two years and she had yet to gain a follower. All of Gryffindor simply tuned her out whenever she brought the subject up.

They entered the compartment and she sat down next to her boyfriend, snuggling up to him. He put his arm around her and whispered a spell. The door shut. The only people in the compartment were Ethan, Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

"So, love." Began Ethan. "Now that there's just the four of us, I hope you don't mind if I ask you to satisfy our curiosity. How, what, where and who?"

"You're talking about my kidnapping, I presume."

"Bingo."

"Well..." Ginny was playing with his hair. "Can't it wait?"

Ethan looked down at her, eyebrows raised. "Still afraid? After a month, now?"

Ginny looked back at him, her good humour evaporating. "Ethan," She said sternly, "I do not wish to talk about it. I had a hard time relating it to Dumbledore, I do not wish to relieve it again no matter the circumstances."

"OK, OK. I get it. No need to be offended, I was just concerned, you know." Ethan squeezed her slightly and smiled tenderly at her. "I was worried too. You were missing for three weeks and everyone assumed that it was only a matter of time before the Death Eaters got you. I'm sorry. I was scared for you."

Ginny's anger evaporated. How could she stay angry at him after that? She untangled herself and leant up to kiss him on the cheek.

He looked at her in surprise. "What was that for?"

"Why, you had a problem with it?" She teased.

He grinned at her. "Not at all, milady. How may I serve you now?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Prat."

"You did get your homework done, no?" Trust Hermione to come up with homework at such a time.

Ginny looked at the older witch with an exasperated look. "Yes mother."

Hermione looked sheepish. "Just checking."

The four of them simply talked for the next hour or so. Quidditch, Quadpot, TV shows, technology, cars... It felt good.

Ginny got up. "I'll go look for my dorm-mates."

She kissed Ethan, nodded to her brother and Hermione and left the compartment. Battling past people in the corridors she peered into compartments, searching for her dorm-mates. As she was doing so, she came across someone she thought had completely vanished from her life. She stepped into the compartment.

"Hadrian?"

The boy looked up and gave her a smile as he gestured at her to take a seat. She did so, astonishment writ large on her face. "What are you doing here?"

Hadrian's smile turned wry. "What do you think?"

Ginny felt a little irritated now. "You've come to keep an eye on me." Her temper began rising. "You have no right to do that!"

"You flatter yourself, Ginny," replied Hadrian. He held up his nails against the light and examined them detachedly. "To think that I came here to keep 'an eye on you' as you so arrogantly say is... arrogant indeed."

"Then why are you here?" asked Ginny.

"Because I want to be here."

"Aah!" yelled Ginny in frustration. "Why don't you just tell me?"

"I just did." Hadrian's smile grew wider.

"OK, Hadrian," replied Ginny. "It's not funny any more. Seriously. Why is the world's most accomplished bounty hunter coming to Hogwarts? You have nothing to do in this conflict any more, you're not even British for heaven's sake!"

Hadrian shook his head amusedly. "I'm not? I was under the impression that Lily and James Potter's son would be British to the core."

Ginny closed her eyes, trying to fight back the waves of exasperation washing over her. "You know what I mean. And where is Madison? You got rid of her?"

He chuckled. "No, Madison is sleeping. She had a rough night yesterday, what with all the new clothes she was trying on. I dare say she discovered the thrill girls get while shopping."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware they made clothing that small."

"They don't. You have to pick the clothes you want and then they shrink them in a proprietary potion."

"Oh," said Ginny lamely, not knowing what to say. "Which brand?"

"Oh this and that," said Hadrian airily.

Ginny decided not to ask. Very few brands were big enough to have proprietary potions to shrink and enlarge clothes. She could count them on one hand. She almost felt envious of the little fairy.

"Hadrian?"

"Mm?"

"Aren't you afraid of being recognised?"

"No."

"But–"

"Let some things remain secret Ginny. Information is a prized commodity in the wizarding world and its monopoly has helped many in the past. Leave it."

"But–"

"I said leave it, Ginny."

No one spoke for the next five minutes. Ginny looked at him, questions racing through her mind. Why was the biggest one, but she knew he wouldn't answer that. When he wanted to, he could be very taciturn. How was another, but he wasn't answering that.

"Hadrian, how were you sorted?" Asked Ginny out of the blue.

Hadrian looked up at her. "Using the sorting hat, just like any other new Hogwarts student is. Why?"

"I've never asked any new sixth year student how they're sorted. How much time did it take?"

"About forty five minutes."

Ginny gaped at him.

"What?" Said Hadrian, looking at her a bit self-consciously. "Fine, it is a bit much, but the others weren't far behind, you know. Most took about thirty five to forty minutes. I just overshot them by–"

"Hadrian," interrupted Ginny, "Normally people take a minute or two in their first year."

Now it was Hadrian's turn to look at her incredulously. "Really? Well, I never."

"What subjects are you taking?"

"Transfiguration, Charms, Duelling, Arithmancy and Runes. I'm a Master in Transfiguration and Enchantment and very well versed in the rest."

"I'll bet," muttered Ginny. "From where did you get your masters?"

"The University of Rome."

Ginny stared. "Wow. That is like, the topmost university for Transfiguration!"

"Yeah," replied Hadrian modestly. "From there I was invited to intern under a curse-breaker who went to Macchu Picchu. It was great, unravelling the wards behind one of the lost cities of the west."

"Doesn't that come under Charms?"

"Permanent wards are a branch of Enchanting," replied Hadrian patiently. "No one is considered a master of the subject unless he's somewhat capable as a warder."

"At what age..." Ginny trailed off.

"Fifteen. Just after I disposed of Zemnatsky."

Ginny nodded numbly. Wow. Master in transfiguration at the age of fifteen. That said something about his capabilities. "Why didn't you pursue a more... legal course through life?"

His eyes darkened, though the smile still lingered on his face, artificial and shallow. "Many reasons. Some you know of," Ginny swallowed, remembering his little outburst in the fairy court, "And some I'd rather you not know."

Ginny sighed. He was much more open with her when she was his captive. What had changed? She trusted him a bit. He trusted her back, right? She averted her face from his, a sense of betrayal forcing itself through her emotions. Had he got another contract? Did he want to–"

Ginny's insides flooded with icy fear. No. That was not going to happen. No He wouldn't do that.

Or would he?

The door opened and a head appeared. Ginny looked up at it, her chain of thought broken.

"Everything all right around here?" asked the newcomer.

"Neville!" exclaimed Ginny as she got up and opened the compartment door. "How've you been?" She stepped forward and gave him a quick hug.

She looked at him fondly. Neville had been a good friend to both her and Ethan. Though he wasn't really particularly close to anyone in the school, no one really hated him. He'd helped her out a bit after the chamber incident too. She smiled at him and he smiled back. It was nice to see him.

A cough interrupted them. Ginny blushed a little. "Neville, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. This is–"

"Hadrian. Hadrian Kohler." Hadrian stood up, extending his hand. "I'm a new sixth year here." Ginny was surprised by his sudden change to a German accent.

Neville shook his hand warmly. "I'm Neville Longbottom." He smiled at Hadrian. "From which school in Germany did you do your OWLS?"

"The Berlin Academy of Military Arts."

Neville's eyebrows shot up. "Nice. They say that it's better got better education than Durmstrang if you want to make a career in the German Armed Forces."

Hadrian smiled self-consciously. "Well, yes. Herr Erwin Rommel graduated from there, so I guess you are correct."

Neville sat down, clearly interested in the new sixth year. Ginny sat down too, interested in the cover story Hadrian had manufactured for himself. Here was a chance to see a master at work.

"So how do you two know each other?" asked Neville.

"We met in a market in Ottery St Catchpole. A relative of mine left me some property near the area."

"I was shopping for tomatoes. We'd run out," interjected Ginny.

"And then..." prompted Neville.

"Nothing much, Herr Longbottom," continued Hadrian smoothly. "I offered to carry the tomatoes back to her home. However I had clearly underestimated the danger the Weasley family is under. The wards around her property refused to allow me entry. That is when we parted ways. We just met each other in the train right now."

"Yeah," said Ginny. "That's correct. Listen, Neville. I'll leave you two to talk. Demelza's probably going to be pretty angry with me, it's about half an hour past the time I promised to meet her."

Neville chuckled. "No problem Ginny. I guess we'll get along just fine. I spent some of my early years in Frankfurt, you see."

She got up, nodded to both of them and went out.

* * *

Neville looked back at Hadrian, looking unsure of what to say. Hadrian himself was uncomfortable, never having been in this situation before. People didn't generally want to assassinate sixteen year olds and as such, he'd never learned to deal with his own age group.

"Well..." they both began at the same time.

"You first," grinned Neville.

"So you're Lord Longbottom?" asked Hadrian.

"Yeah," replied Neville. He perked up. "Am I famous in Germany?"

Hadrian laughed. "No, but I've done a project on the Rothschilds and they say that the Longbottoms are related to them through Nathan Meyer Rothschild, I believe."

Neville looked surprised. Hadrian almost cursed. He had to look ordinary and not appear special. Bingo Hadrian, you've already started screwing up! "Well, I thought it was true, sorry If I am wrong."

"No, no," Neville hurried to placate him. "Its fine. Its just that very few people actually bother with such information, even though it is on the records. I was just surprised, not hurt."

Hadrian sighed. Whew! That was close.

"What subjects, Hadrian?"

"Transfiguration, Charms, Duelling, Arithmancy and Runes," intoned Hadrian.

Neville raised an eyebrow. "Why do I get the feeling that you're not looking forward to it?"

Hadrian smiled weakly. "I don't know?"

Neville laughed and Hadrian relaxed. Neville was a good guy, even if he was a Lord. "So why Hogwarts?"

"My parents were English."

Neville wisely did not comment on the use of the past tense. "And your aim is to do what, exactly?"

"I wish to get into the army."

"Of course, I should have known. British or German?"

Hadrian flashed him a grin. "The way the world is spinning right now, I'd say German."

"Yeah," replied Neville, his mood shifting. "even I'd be saying the same if I had a choice. The way it's going, Britain will have been conquered by someone by the time you'll be serving in full capacity."

Hadrian's eyebrows shot up. He didn't know of any invasion. "Someone's going to invade England?"

"What?" replied Neville, looking stunned. "No! That's not what I meant! I mean, there's a good chance someone will, you know. The way Britain's going, I'll bet someone's going to try it soon. Its a hunch. But its been too convenient, what with three decades of civil war and no foreign attacks."

"Britain's feared abroad," pointed out Hadrian.

"Only because of its past glory. Not its current situation. You're German, you know the situation. What do people think of Britain over there in Berlin?"

"Its respect is pretty low," admitted Hadrian. "But it's still seen as a formidable military target."

"After the Battle of Britain, I'm not surprised. I bet they still remember it," muttered Neville, looking out the window. "But that's nothing for France and Spain. Public opinion is to settle old historical rivalries over there."

Hadrian raised an eyebrow. "They both owe England after World War Two, no?"

"Yeah." Replied Neville. "It doesn't make sense to me either. The mob is always notoriously fickle. And I doubt that the governments are going to object. There's major opportunities for money making in a war. And plus they get to plunder. Its a win-win situation."

"So you support the Death Eaters or the Order?"

Neville looked at him, a neutral expression on his face. "What do you know of the history of the Longbottoms?"

"Nothing, really," admitted Hadrian, "except for what I read about while researching the Rothschilds."

"My parents were tortured to insanity by Death Eaters," replied Neville quietly. "I will never support them."

"The Order then," said Hadrian swiftly. He got no response for a while. He winced inside. He'd skipped doing research into his fellow house-mates. But to be honest, helping Madison pick her outfits had been tiring. Much more tiring than he'd thought.

Speaking of Madison... he opened the box kept on the seat next to him and looked in. A pair of angry fairy eyes stared back at him. He swallowed, suddenly afraid. Opposite him he was vaguely aware of Neville turning his head to look at him. The fairy slowly rose out of the box, her expression stormy. Ten inches. Ten inches of woman and Hadrian was already cowering. Merlin help him when he got a girlfriend.

Madison filled her lungs, expression still cutely angry. And then she began chittering at him, all female grace and poise gone. He cringed. They still hadn't got around the language barrier, but the tone she was using was reminiscent of wives yelling at their husbands to sleep on the couch for the rest of their foreseeable lives. Opposite him, he was aware of Neville's mouth hanging open as he saw the scene in front of him. Hadrian didn't blame him for it. A teenager being bullied by a furious fairy?

When she paused to draw breath, he jumped in. "Listen, I'm sorry Madi. I didn't mean to leave you in the house for so long, you just never banged against the walls as I told you to. How was I to know you were awake!"

Madison stared at him, her expression telling him exactly what she thought of his words. He winced. Her glare was vicious.

"Sorry, Madison? I promise I won't do it again."

She looked at him haughtily before affecting to sit down on his shoulder and kiss him on the cheek. He turned to look at her and found her smiling at him. She didn't have it in her to remain angry at him. He found a smile making way onto his face.

"Wow," said the third occupant of the room. Both Madison and Hadrian jumped, having forgotten his presence. Madison squeaked and moved to hide behind his neck, only eyes and shoes showing. "Is that a fairy?"

"Yes," replied Hadrian, an echo of a smile still on his face. "Her name's Madison. Madison, this is Neville."

She craned her neck out. And immediately lost her balance. Almost without meaning to, Hadrian moved his hand up to give her support. She fell onto it and after a while, sat down on it, allowing him to bring her forward for Neville to see.

"She's beautiful," said Neville, his eyes wide. Madison blushed. Neville looked up to Hadrian, surprised. "She understands English? If she's an English fairy, then you know that the government forbids you from trading them."

"I didn't buy her," replied Hadrian calmly. "She bonded with me."

Neville's eyebrows were in danger of disappearing behind his hairline. "But they only bond with Elves!"

Hadrian smiled, "Normally, yes. But we met through very unusual circumstances." Neville raised an eyebrow, willing him to elaborate. "I don't know the full thing, I just came in the end. But she was being hunted by elvish poachers. I somehow managed to rescue her."

"Wow," whispered Neville. "Amazing!"

Madison got to her feet and took off gracefully from his hand, making a beeline towards his hair. She sat down on it Indian style, grabbing a fistful. Hadrian barely winced now. He was used to it.

"She really loves pink, right?"

Hadrian rolled his eyes. "You have no idea." He received a light smack on his head. "Madison!"

Neville's lips twitched upwards. "You are whipped, Hadrian."

Hadrian glared at him. "No, I'm not!"

"Whatever."

* * *

It was with happiness that Draco Malfoy saw the castle. Even the rain couldn't dampen his spirits. Picking a carriage for himself, he looked around, watching his schoolmates hurry into the waiting carriages, eager to remain dry. Draco snorted disdainfully. Nincompoops. Were you, or were you not wizards? A simple rain-repelling charm would have been enough, idiots!

Someone tumbled into his carriage, wet and cursing. Draco blushed as he saw who it was.

Astoria Greengrass. The most beautiful girl in Slytherin. The girl Draco had loved since forever. She straightened and moved to a seat opposite him, smiling. Draco felt his stomach somersault once before he returned it.

"Hi," said Astoria, in that indescribably soft and lovely voice of hers.

"Hi," replied Draco, his throat suddenly constricting.

"So," she continued, looking at him. "How was your holiday Draco?"

Draco thought back to his holiday, the destruction of Malfoy Manor, the leading of teams against the Desert Fox, facing an enraged Dark Lord. He smiled wryly, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be in love with the girl opposite him. "It was nice. As nice as it could be."

Astoria nodded, not really understanding, nor really making an effort to do so. She looked out the carriage at the sprinting Gryffindors too slow to get carriages. Draco took that moment to admire her.

Her strawberry blonde hair, her beautiful blue eyes, her fair skin. Words failed Draco as he admired her. She was so beautiful. So beautiful. Her lips were that exact shape he would call kissable, and her delicate hands resting upon her lap gave her a poise few girls could hope to match. Her older sister Daphne was but a harlot in front of her. She was, for Draco, the epitome of beauty.

She turned back to him and smiled again. "So, are you not going to ask me about my holiday, Draco?"

Draco controlled himself. He was a Malfoy. Malfoys had never been afraid of anyone. He'd heard of his ancestors staring down scores of enemies on their own without flinching. This was a girl. He had nothing to be afraid of.

Of course, if he could see the spirits of his ancestors next to him, he would have found them shaking their heads at that thought. They would prefer fighting the enemies of Britain any day to this.

"So, Astoria," began Draco, "How was your summer?"

"It was fine," said Astoria in a bored voice.

Draco felt a shudder go up his spine. Merlin! The girl was playing with him! He collected himself. Focus, Draco, focus! "Nothing special happened? Did you not go anywhere? Outside the country, maybe?"

Astoria opened her mouth to answer when two people burst into the carriage, panting. Draco cursed as he turned to look at them. Damn! His one chance to be alone with Astoria gone. It had taken him great effort to get rid of Parkinson and Nott. Who was it this time?

Longbottom's despicable face looked up at him. Draco almost spat on his face with disgust. Of all people, it just had to be Longbottom who'd made him lose his chance.

And there was another person with him. Draco saw the red and gold piping on his robes and sneered. A Gryffindor. Just great. Another one of them.

"Longbottom," spat Draco, his sneer firmly in place. "I'm surprised you managed to get grades to actually be accepted in Hogwarts for your NEWTs. I thought you'd have had to go to some other school the riff-raff go to. Guess standards are falling in Hogwarts after all."

Longbottom stared back at him, his face defiant. "At least I made it despite the lowered standards, Malfoy. I don't see your buddies Crabbe and Goyle here."

Draco fumed, he had no answer to give to that statement. They'd both failed to qualify for Hogwarts. Not that Draco was surprised, they'd always been stupid. But their absence here meant Longbottom 1, Draco 0. That too when Astoria was in listening range.

He instead turned his attention to the new guy sitting next to him. "And what do we have here?" sneered Draco. "Another mudblood?"

Longbottom paled. But before he could do anything, the new Gryffindor spoke up. "Mind whom you call mudblood, Mr. Malfoy. If I were still in Germany, I would have challenged you to a duel."

Draco's eyes narrowed. Longbottom was looking at him in surprise. Even Astoria was leaning forward now, slightly interested.

"A German, eh," said Draco, "Doesn't matter. A Gryffindor is always a Gryffindor. I bet the only reason Dumbledore accepted you here is because you're the son of one of his lackeys back in Germany."

The other person did not reply.

"Hadrian, give it a rest," said Longbottom. "This is Malfoy, the greatest git in Hogwarts."

Draco fought to control his temper. "Mind what you say, Longbottom," he hissed. "Dumbledore won't save you, you know. You aren't the Golden boy of Gryffindor."

He smirked as Longbottom looked away, clearly discomfited. Draco had pulled a little stunt which had almost killed Ethan Potter in their third year. He'd taken Potter's place using Polyjuice once and had got him to agree to a duel with a sixth year Slytherin. When Potter didn't show up, the sixth year challenged him in front of the entire school. When Potter insulted him back, the sixth year had petrified Potter, intending to make him suffer. If Potter had been a better man, he would have fought back with all that he was worth. But being the incompetent idiot he was, Potter could only stare at his opponent in horror as he stalked closer. The timely arrival of Dumbledore was the only thing that saved him. The sixth year was suspended for a semester. The entire school was certain it was Draco, but there had been no proof.

He'd only done it to avenge Potter's infiltration of the Slytherin common room a year earlier using Polyjuice. Potter had also not been implicated in the act. But Draco had a hunch about it. The only person both foolish and willing to go about with such a foolhardy scheme was Potter. It had been sweet revenge and had earned him undying respect as a consummate Slytherin.

"We've arrived," said Astoria, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Longbottom and his friend got down quickly, running into the entrance hall. Draco got out and offered Astoria his arm. The fourth year smiled at him before leaning on his arm. Draco did a victory dance in his head as the two of them hurried into the hall themselves.

"Whew!" exclaimed Astoria. "The rain is bad!"

"Yeah," said Draco. "Its funny how the Gods often test the first years whenever they cross the lake. It happened to us, its happened to the last so many new batches."

"You remember?" asked Astoria, surprised.

"Yeah," replied Draco, trying not to sound proud.

She sighed as the warmth of the Great Hall enveloped the duo. To Draco, it was the loveliest sound he'd heard her produce. He guided her to the Great Hall to her friends. As he made to move away, she piped up in that amazing voice of hers, "Why don't you sit right here, Draco? Pansy, Theodore and Blaise haven't reached yet. They can sit here, there's enough seats."

Draco thought he would burst on the spot. She had asked him to sit next to her! She who had never known he'd existed till now! He quickly claimed the seat next to her and returned her smile, getting his occlumency shields in place. If there was even a slight chance that she knew legilimency, he didn't want her knowing how he felt about her. It might destroy his dream before he even came close to realising it.

He looked around, relishing the feeling of being in Hogwarts again. It was a far cry from his new home, one of the Malfoy properties in Ireland. It had been abandoned for a long time and had required extensive refurbishment.

But that wasn't the real reason he'd wanted to come back to Hogwarts. The real reason was that he wished to get away from the Dark Lord. A brilliant tactician, an able leader and an amazing strategist, the Dark Lord could have claimed ancestry from Napoleon and he wouldn't have been incredulous. No, the problem wasn't his Lord, but it was the consequences of his actions. When he'd joined in the middle of fifth year, following in his father's footsteps, there was no doubt in his mind that the best way to help his country had been the Dark lord's methods. His father followed them, his mother endorsed them and his aunt was a loyal follower.

When he'd gone home and been given the Weasley assignment, there was nothing in his mind. He had to do it. And he did. If not for a slight twist of Fate's hand, there probably wouldn't have been anything after that either. There would have been a happily ever-after and the island would have been under the rule of the Dark Lord. Period.

But there had been something else. The Desert Fox had escaped with Weasley and he was given the assignment to go capture her. He ran after them for three weeks. The Desert Fox had eluded him and the Order. And for those three weeks he had to go through areas of Britain he'd only read about, never visited. And what he saw shocked him to the core.

Britain was dying. The once proud country, the once ruler of a vast empire was slowly crumbling from within. Poverty and decay scarred the land. The people were without hope and without means of survival. Famine had taken a heavy toll in Wales. The English were barely surviving. The industries of the south were almost non-functional. Most major corporations had either shifted their head-offices overseas or had gone bankrupt. Lawlessness abounded. Men vandalised property, raped women and generally did as they pleased. Everybody and their uncle had a gun and they knew how to use it. The only way it could get worse was if the more prosperous cities of Britain joined the great unwashed.

Draco knew why it had happened. In fact, he doubted there was a sixth year with the knowledge he did. He'd researched economic data till 1945 to uncover the reasons behind this mess. Two things had jumped out at him. Mismanagement by Dumbledore and the civil war.

At first, Draco refused to believe it. There was no reason to. The people loved the Dark Lord. It was what his father had told him. And his father wouldn't lie, would he?

But he had lied. Draco had gone places and asked people about it. And everyone told him the same thing. They didn't care. If someone would come and help them out of their current situation, then they didn't care what his name was. It had hit Draco like a tonne of bricks. Their way was not the correct way.

When he had told his father about his conclusions, he'd witnessed a rare sight. The sight of his father in a murderous rage. He'd nearly tortured Draco to insanity. Only the timely arrival of his mother had saved him.

Bellatrix had laughed at him. She'd patted his head and told him that the people couldn't think for themselves. They needed good leaders. But Draco knew that to be false. Bellatrix was deluding herself. Machiavelli, the greatest politician there had ever been had stated clearly that the best decision taken by the ruler is the one to which the people protest the least. It was the most prudent way to rule.

Uncle Rudolph had told him that the Dark Lord had God behind him. God was giving him divine support. It didn't matter what the people thought as long as God's wishes were carried out. It was a hollow argument to Draco's ears. God was benevolent. He looked after his children. That was the first thing Father Richmond had taught him. If He was of the opinion that Britain needed widespread suffering to be remade, then Draco would eat himself. Granted, there usually had been a lot of suffering before change had come in many places, but that change had taken place when people tried to end that suffering.

His arguments had made no dent on anyone. No one had listened to him. And that told Draco something. No one was here for the country, not even his own father. They all wanted power. Doubtless that someone like the Dark Lord had come here with the best of intentions, but that didn't mean that he was pure of heart. And that he was incorruptible. The Dark Lord was human, after all. He had his flaws. And if the Dark Lord was corruptible, then so were his followers.

He'd ruled out Dumbledore. Not only was his own family not following him, but the man had principles with which Draco disagreed. And plus, he'd pioneered half-baked laws and stupid policies which had brought Britain to its state thirty years back when Lord Voldemort had declared himself to be the salvation of Britain. He'd been the one to cause this war. Draco couldn't work with someone like that.

It had been such an atmosphere which Draco had left behind when he came to Hogwarts. Draco couldn't have been happier to come to Hogwarts. He looked at Astoria as she talked to a friend of hers. And he smiled. She was happy, and so was he.

"Bee in your bonnet, Draco?" Blaise's voice jarred him out of his reverie. Draco gave his friend a pointed look and looked elsewhere. Unfortunately, his eyes landed on Potter. He scowled as he whirled back to Blaise.

"Look what you made me do," complained Draco. "The feast hasn't even started yet and you made me look at Potter."

Blaise winced in sympathy. "Forgive me, Draco. I shall not commit such an error again." The solemn expression and the serious tone made Draco laugh, and soon Blaise joined him.

"A bit eager, are you, to sink your claws into my intended's little sister?" continued Blaise, this time in a normal tone.

Draco flushed. "Not so loud!" he whispered.

Blaise shrugged. "Don't worry. She hasn't heard me."

"Yet," added Draco, scowling.

"Yet," smirked Blaise.

Draco sighed. "Am I that obvious?"

"Yes," laughed Blaise. "But only to those who know you."

"Thank God," said Draco. Then he blanched as a thought hit him. "Do you think Pansy–"

"Oh absolutely," replied Blaise smugly. "You'll really need to control yourself around her to keep up the charade."

Draco groaned.

"Draco, there you are!" came a voice.

"Hide me!" whispered Draco fiercely. "Now!" Blaise only smirked.

Pansy Parkinson hurried over to him, Theodore Nott trailing in her wake. She stopped next to him and planted a kiss on his head. "Move over, Draco."

For a second, he was tempted to tell her to sit somewhere else. He wanted to sit next to Astoria. But before he could say anything, Blaise came to his rescue. "I want to sit next to you too, Pansy. Come sit between us."

Pansy turned her nose up at him. "Move over Draco," she repeated.

Draco looked at Astoria. Remarkably, she had stopped talking and was smiling at the scene. For a moment, he caught her eye and he saw... regret?

Draco scooted over, still in turmoil over what he had seen. He was barely paying attention to Pansy's voice as he pondered on what he thought he'd seen. Was Astoria Greengrass as willing to be with him as he was with her?

* * *

**A/N :** Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I was sorry I could not take both. With this interlude, the direction of the story is set. I was told that there is no point in writing Draco until one does not develop him. He will be developed, and he will be important. Just do not take his disenchantment with Voldemort to be a stepping stone to an alliance with Dumbledore.

About Hogwarts. They take students in their first and sixth years. The qualifying marks required by Hogwarts are very high. The sixth years are not sorted in the opening feast as admittance of sixth years has only started with the acceptance of OWLS as a standard throughout Europe and Britain about 70 years ago. There are departments of which the canon teachers are heads. Lower years are taught by other teachers (apprentices of the heads or assistant professors). It will function like a college. Consider first years as undergrad students and NEWT students as graduate students. There will, of course, be differences, which will become clear as the story progresses.

The functioning of modern electronics will be explained in the next chapter. I realised that if I wish to keep Hogwarts recognisable, I might just have to tweak my magic-quantum theory a bit. Ah, a stupid question. Should I include equations?

I know its a significant departure from canon, but I'm making Quadpot the other fad in Britain. I find it weird for there to just be one sport for the masses of Britain. There are others in this story, but they are not as popular as Quidditch or Quadpot. Duelling will be considered a niche sport, something like fencing. It will be offered as an independent course in Hogwarts with the DADA teacher personally certifying the student as an able duellist. There is neither an OWL nor a NEWT for the subject.


End file.
